


Lost

by crazyTXgradstudent



Category: Negan - Fandom, The Walking Dead
Genre: But it won't follow that closely, F/M, I do what I want, I have read the comics, Miscarriage, Negan's settled down a little, Older Negan, Original Character Death(s), Possible Spoilers, Stillbirth, that's my excuse for horrible OOC, think the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 67,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6464323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyTXgradstudent/pseuds/crazyTXgradstudent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick little Negan fic, based off of nothing but my imagination.  Yes, I've read the comics, so I know what's up with Negan.  But the other side of me wants to know what makes him tick, what made him who he is.  Listening to Blue October and still recovering from The Walking Dead finale are to blame.  Sorry...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She heard the door open, and the heavy steps of his boots as he entered.  The door closed behind him, once again enveloping the room in a suffocating darkness.  She shoved her fist in her mouth, doing her best to muffle the cry that wanted to escape at his presence.

He flicked on a small lamp as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled angrily as he pulled off one, then the other boot, and dropped them to the floor.  She heard his leather jacket being unzipped, and then the sound of it also hitting the floor. She knew him so well, knew the moment he’d stripped off his shirt, and it too, followed the rest of his belongings on the floor beside the bed.

Her breath hitched uncontrollably.  She felt the bed dip as he leaned over to her, and his hand ghosted over hers as he gripped hers in his.  His hand was ice cold, and she struggled to hide the shiver from his touch.  

“Babe? You awake?” His voice was weary, hoarse from the night’s events, and she felt the bile rise in her throat.   

She lay perfectly still, hoping that he would just fall asleep and make this easy for her, but his hand slid up her bare arm and grabbed at her shoulder.  He pulled her to him, forcing her onto his chest as he lay back.  He had to have her on his chest, or his arms wrapped around her; he said he couldn’t sleep any other way.   She was always happy to comply…

_…but not tonight._

Tonight he’d done something she couldn’t forgive, something she thought him incapable of.

True, she’d seen him do some horrible things, but they could always be explained, could always be justified. It was for the benefit of the community, or to save someone’s life.

_But not tonight._

Even after she’d begged and pleaded for him to not do it, he'd gone and done it anyway, and she couldn't forgive him.  She just couldn't.  

She lay stiffly pressed against his chest for as long as she could, until finally she could take it no more.  She rolled away from him, and slid off the bed before he could grab her. As she flicked on her bedside lamp, she saw the confusion in his beautiful face as he stared up at her.

“I’m done, Negan.” Mallory folded her arms over her chest as she stared down at the man she loved.  It was taking everything in her to take this stance with him, but it had to be done.  She just couldn't do it anymore.  

Negan sighed and plopped back down on the bed, one large hand coming to swipe across his face wearily.

“Mal…babe…we’ve discussed this. You know why I had to do what I did,” Negan spoke to the ceiling.

“Yes, and I told you that if you went through with it, we’d be done.” Mallory’s throat was constricting, sucking every last bit of air from her lungs as she continued. “And you did it, and I meant what I said.”

  
Negan turned over, hearing not only the despair and anger, but the finality in her voice.  He sat up in the bed, his heart pounding in his chest.  He was man enough to admit that he was scared shitless right now, and all because of a 5 foot-nothing, auburn-haired, brown-eyed girl that he loved more than life itself.   If she left him, it would destroy him; he knew that with utter certainty.

“Mallory, please-”

“Don’t!” Mallory held her hand up to him, halting him before he went any further.  Her lower lip trembled as she fought back tears, but a few rebellious ones spilled over and rolled down her cheeks.  She swiped at her face, furiously dashing away the hot tears of frustration and hurt.   Her cheeks were puffy, and her eyes were red enough to be seen in the dim light;  she'd obviously been crying all the while he'd been gone.   Negan rolled out of bed and walked around to her side, his intent to take her in his arms.  

He halted when he saw the Glock as she lifted her hand and shook her head at him.   _Surely_ _she_ _wouldn't_ , _right?_   He stepped forward, trusting her love for him.

 

 

He felt the cool metal of the 9mm as it pressed against his stomach, and he stilled.  Her whole body was shaking, but she held the gun firmly against his abdomen.  

“ _Mallory?_ ” His voice was barely above a whisper in his disbelief.  He watched as another tear rolled down her cheek, and it took everything in him to not knock the pistol away from her and pull her into his arms. He knew he could if he wanted to…

“I love you, Negan. I always have, and I probably always will, but I don’t _like_ you anymore. I don’t like who you’ve become, and I don’t like who I am when I'm with you.” Mallory whispered brokenly.   "I hate myself, and I _hate_ you."

Throwing caution aside, Negan reached out and grabbed Mallory around the back of her neck and pulled her to him.  His face was stoic, his voice even harder as he spoke,  but deep inside he was breaking apart, his heart crumbling into a million little pieces.   _She_ _hated_ _him?_

“You know I can stop you if you try to leave me,” he warned as he fought his emotions.  He was not a man who cried - _most_ _certainly_ _not_ \- but right now, right in this moment he felt like his heart was literally being pulled from his chest.   She couldn’t leave him.   _She_   _couldn’t_.

Mallory slid the gun up his stomach and pressed it just below his chin.

“I’ll kill you if you try,” she vowed quietly.

Negan lowered his chin, forcing Mallory’s hand - and the gun - down lower.

“You know why I did what I did.  Why I do what I do.   You know why!” He was two seconds short of pleading with her, of begging her to stay.  He’d never seen her so furious, yet so calm, all at the same time;  he had never seen her so defeated.  She meant to leave him, and while he knew he could force her to stay, he also knew he loved her too much to impose his will on her. Not her.

“They were going to have a baby,” her voice broke as a fresh wave of tears rolled down her cheeks, and Negan’s heart clenched in his chest at her pain.  He knew where this was headed, and he closed his eyes to ward off his own despair as the memories came back, threatening to overtake him and swallow him whole.  It was still too raw, too agonizing to think of.

“They were going to have a baby, and you took that from them because of your hatred!” Mallory’s hand trembled as she held the gun against his throat, and Negan felt his own tears prick at his eyes.  He just barely caught her before she collapsed against him in defeat.  

“You took that away from them _because_ _of_ _me_ ,” Mallory sobbed against his chest as she finally broke down.   Negan gently pried the 9mm away from her fingers and laid it on the table before scooping Mallory up in his arms and carrying her back to their bed.   He laid down, cradling her against his chest as the sobs wracked her body.   She was so frail, so weak after losing their baby a few weeks ago, and not a day went by that he didn’t worry about her, both mentally and physically.   It seemed like she was withering away right before his eyes, and for as much power as he thought he had, there was not a damn thing he could do to pull her back from the edge.  He was losing her - _in_ _more_ _ways_ _than_ _one_ \-  and he knew it.

He'd known exactly what he was doing earlier.  He’d known that the man he’d killed this evening was going to be a father; his wife had pleaded with him before he’d killed the man.  She’d begged for his life for the sake their unborn child, and for just a split second, Negan had hesitated.   For one small moment, he remembered what it felt like when he’d found out that Mallory was pregnant, and how happy he was.   He hesitated, and thought about killing someone else for the sake of that unborn baby.  For just a moment, he thought about letting that soon-to-be-father live...

But then the fact that he and Mallory had lost their unborn child came angrily crashing back down, and Negan had killed that man without thinking twice.  He took all his anger, all his rage and sorrow out on that boy, and when it was over, he had half a mind to kill the woman as well, just to end it for everyone.   Why should they be happy when he wasn’t allowed to be?   Why should Mallory go through something like that and that woman in Rick’s group be allowed to have her baby?   _Why_ _her_ _and_ _not_ _Mallory?_   Even now he could feel the rage building in his chest, and the need to take his anger out was pulsing hot in his veins.   The only thing keeping him from going out there and killing the rest of that group was the broken woman laying in his arms, softly crying herself to sleep.

He knew she loved him, but he also knew right now she hated him.   She was looking for someone to blame just as much as he was;  he knew this, but he didn’t know how to fix it.  He had never felt more helpless and hopeless in his life, and it was infuriating him to no end.

Not able to lay still any longer, he gently pried himself away from Mallory and pulled his shirt back on.   With one last glance at her in the dim light of the lamp, he picked up Lucille and made his way back outside.   Maybe a smoke would do him good...maybe a drink...something.   Anything to dull the pain;  he needed to do something before he went fucking insane.  The air bit at his cheeks as he made his way back outside on this cold, Virginia night,  and he stood out there as long as he could,  surveying the perimeter until his teeth began to chatter.  When he could take it no more, he made his way back to his room, and stripped again, everything but his shirt.   He curled his cold body around Mallory, and held onto her for all he was worth.  He hoped she knew how much he loved her, and that he would do anything for her.   _Anything_ _at_ _all_.   With one final kiss against her head, he pushed his nose into the back of her neck and inhaled deeply. Mallory was his whole world.

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Negan rolled over, and without feeling the spot beside him, he already knew.

He already knew.

_She was gone._

He sat up, slinging his legs around and planting them firmly on the floor as his fury grew.  

    

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Mallory pushed the motorcycle through the woods, not knowing where she was headed; she would figure that out once she got there. She hoped that _he_ wouldn’t come looking for her, but she knew it was no use.

_He most certainly would._

She had driven as far as she could on the road before deciding to go into the woods, and she cursed herself for being so unprepared.  Stuck out in the middle of the damn woods, somewhere between home and God knows where, with walkers around every corner.   She stopped for a moment, listening for any signs of the dead - _or_ _the_ _living_ \- that might be following her.   She looked over her shoulder, waiting for any movement in the brush, but heard nothing.   Feeling satisfied, she pushed on, and finally made her way back out to the highway.

Once there, she hopped on the bike and started it.

Where she was headed, she had no idea.   All she knew was she needed to be far away from him.  

She had to get her mind straight, and she couldn’t do that around him.

* * *

 

  
The following day, Mallory found herself completely out of gas and had to resort to walking on foot.   She'd left the bike back about a mile or so ago, and she was struggling to stay upright on her feet.  She had no water, she was almost out of food, and her head was pounding something furious.  She was so damn unprepared, and she could hear Negan chastising hers for being so stupid.  She knew she had been foolish.   She knew her emotions were running high after her miscarriage, but what else could she do?   Hindsight was 20/20, and she knew she was in a sorry state of affairs health-wise.    She was bleeding again, her lower stomach cramped up, and her side ached with a fiery burn, but she pushed on, disregarding the pain.   She’d have to stop and find medication somewhere, or-

“Stop right there.”

Mallory froze, her heart jumping in her throat at the voice.  Her eyes darted around, but she could see nothing.

“Drop your weapons,” the voice called again, closer this time.  It was a man, that much she knew.

“Look, I’m not looking for trouble. I’m just passing through,” Mallory called out to the faceless voice.

“Good. I’m not looking for trouble either.  Drop your weapon.” The voice was closer this time, and Mallory knew the man was behind her. When she heard the click of the of the gun being cocked, she finally complied and lowered her knife and pistol to the ground.   She stood back up, her hands in the air and slowly turned around.   It was an older African-American man that stood before her, a staff strapped to his back as he trained his pistol on her.

  

Mallory smiled tentatively.

“Look, mister, I’m just passing through,” she tried again, but was met with a stony look.

“You got any more people with you?” The man looked around cautiously, before looking back at Mallory.  “Don’t lie to me. I will kill you right here, right now.”

Mallory’s smile faded, and she lowered her hands in defeat.   She had people once.   She had someone that loved her, even if it was a crazy, chaotic kind of love.

_She didn't have that anymore._

“I did have people,” she admitted softly.   She looked down at her bloody boots in an effort to not cry;  her damned emotions were all over the place, and she knew she had no one else to blame but herself for the predicament she found herself in.  

“And where are those people now?” The man asked as he too lowered his weapon.

“I don’t know anymore.” She looked up at the man and shrugged her shoulders. “I left and I can’t go back.  I couldn't find my way back if I tried.”  She swiped a shaking hand over her brow, doing her best to control her trembling.  

Morgan took in the woman's appearance as he decided what to do.  She was trembling before him, and swaying on her feet.   She was filthy, covered from head to toe in what looked like a mixture of blood and mud.   He could see the dirt caked in her hair, and he had to wonder just what - _or_ _who_ \- she was running from.  His keen eyes did not miss the rip in her shirt, and he could see that she was bleeding there from some wound she’d sustained. The blood was caked on around the hem of her shirt, but where he presumed the wound was, it was a bright red.   And while he didn’t want to look, he couldn’t help but notice the dark, red stain on her jeans between her legs.   Something was seriously wrong with this woman…

Mallory watched him watching her, and she knew the conflict he was faced with.   She’d faced it many times herself, and while she was much more welcoming than Negan was, she’d had her fair share of “ _kill_ - _or_ - _be_ - _killed_ ” moments in her life.   She knew what he was going through, and she knew that this was probably not going to end well for her.  

“Look, I’m no threat. I really want to be on my way, if that’s any help to you.” Mallory blankly stared at the man before her.  He ignored her statement, but instead nodded down at her side.

“Is that a bite?”

“This?” Mallory gingerly pulled the edge of her sticky shirt up, revealing an ugly gash to her side.   She knew she needed stitches - the skin was nearly flayed open -  and she had just barely controlled the bleeding with a dirty rag passed against herself.   “Yeah.  From a fence that didn’t like me climbing up it.  Or back down it.”   She grimaced as she carefully lowered her shirt.   She knew her wound was infected, and she knew she was treading on dangerous ground the longer she waited to find treatment.

“You need medicine.” The man nodded down at her flank again.

“No, I need to get away from here and be on my way,” Mallory weakly argued back.  Now that her adrenaline was coming down, she could feel the weariness taking over again, not to mention the fever that was ravaging her body.  She wobbled on her feet as a wave of dizziness washed over her. “I just need to get back on the…road…and then I can…”

Mallory’s world went dark as she collapsed at the man's feet...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I have read the comic books, and know what's gonna happen. With that being said, I have and will be making deviations from the natural flow of things. Some stuff will be comic legit, but I haven't even gotten that far in this story to say what that is or is not. I don't plan, I just write, so most times I'm just as surprised as my readers at what comes out. 
> 
> So, possible spoiler warning? Check. 
> 
> Y'all being just as surprised as me? Check, check. 
> 
> Enjoy the ride, and as always, I love feedback and ideas!


	3. Chapter 3

Negan stared out over the hood of his truck, his jaw ticking angrily as the man beside him trembled.

“Not even a fuckin' trail?” He idly worked a toothpick in and out between his lips as he waited for Dwight to speak.

“No-not…not even a trail, boss,” Dwight stuttered. ‘We’ve gone out at least 20 miles, and there’s no sign of her.”

Negan turned around and lifted Lucille to his shoulder, his jaw still tensed angrily.

“So fuckin' go 25 fuckin' miles.” He stepped forward, towering over the frail, blonde man before him.  Dwight took a step back, stumbling, with fear clearly written over the half of his face that was still recognizable.  The men behind him also took a step back, all immensely grateful that they weren’t in Dwight’s place.

“And if you don't find her in 25 fuckin' miles,  go 30 fuckin' miles.” Negan casually lifted Lucille and placed her on Dwight’s shoulder. “Do you fuckin' understand?”

Dwight paled under the weight of not only Negan’s glare, but the feel of the bat wrapped in barbed-wire that was currently resting against the crook of his neck;  it very nearly had him shitting himself.  He knew what Negan was capable of, and he _did_ _not_ want to be on the receiving end of Lucille’s wrath.

“Ye-yes sir!” Dwight squeaked out.  Negan lifted the bat off Dwight’s shoulder, and grinned down at Dwight before turning to look at the other men.

“Don’t come back until you find her,” Negan warned, that same slow grin on his face.  

 

  

 

“Cause if you do come back, and she’s not with you," he swung Lucille around slowly, making sure to point at each of his men, "I’ll fuckin' kill you all.”  

Negan turned back to the hood of his truck, wordlessly dismissing Dwight and the other men.  They quickly scurried away and headed back out in search of Mallory.   Without thinking, Negan reached up and twisted his fingers in the red scarf about his neck.  When he realized what he was doing, he gritted his teeth and cleared his throat in an effort to hold back his emotions.

Mallory had given him that red scarf as a present on their first anniversary.  She’d found it in some shop way before she’d found him.  While he had never been a gift giver, Mallory had never wasted an opportunity to show him in some little way how much she loved him, even if it was a ridiculously bright, red scarf.  He remembered how he’d balked at it, refusing to wear it for the longest.   _It_ _was_ _much_ _too_ _girly_ , he’d always said. Then one day, while he went out on a mission, he had forgotten his usual neck gator and was freezing his ass off.  In search of something to wrap around his neck, he’d dug through his bag that Mallory had packed for him the night before, and he’d seen the red scarf in there, with a small note attached.

**_Quit being a hard-ass and wear it. I love you always. Mal xoxox_ **

With a wry grin,  he’d wrapped it around his neck and silently dared any of his men to make a comment.   From that moment forward, he either wore that damn scarf, or carried it on his person - stuffed in his pocket or tied about his waist.  

He’d do anything for Mallory, including wearing a damn red scarf.

Feeling the emotions overwhelm him, he cleared his throat again before making his way back over to the prisoners.  He and Rick Grimes had some business to conduct, and he couldn't do that if he didn't get his shit together.  

* * *

 

   
Mallory slowly opened her eyes, but struggled to focus. She tried to sit up, but quickly realized she was tied at both wrists and at her ankles.

“Now settle down, miss,” that familiar voice spoke to her, dragging her out of the darkness.  When she was finally able to focus, she saw the same man at her side.  He smiled at her.

“I’m Morgan. How are you feeling?” the man asked. He placed a gentle hand against Mallory’s forehead, and sighed in relief. “Looks like your fever has finally broken.”

Mallory lay back against the pillow as she tried to orient herself.  The last thing she remembered was this man, and a conversation in the woods, and-

“Where am I?” she whispered.  Morgan could see her eyes had opened wide, and fear was clearly written all over her face. He placed a gentle hand on hers, trying to calm her down.

“You’re in Alexandria.  It’s safe here.” He patted her hand once more before sitting back on his stool. “You were very sick, miss, but lucky for you we have a doctor here. Denise took real good care of you, fixed you right up.”

_Alexandria?_

Mallory’s mind scrambled to process Morgan’s words.   _Surely_ _it_ _couldn’t_ _be_ _true_. Surely she couldn’t be here, of all places! Not when Rick and his group were with Negan, and Negan had just killed one of their people.  This couldn’t be happening.

“What’s your name?” Morgan asked, drawing Mallory’s panicked eyes back up to his.

“Mallory. My name’s Mallory,” she replied without thinking whether she should or not.   She felt so damn guilty right now.   She knew that if Morgan knew where she was from, he probably would have killed her without thinking twice.

“Well, Mallory, I’d like to take those ropes off your wrists and let you up, but I need to know that you’re not gonna try anything crazy.”

Mallory stared up at the man, knowing that right now she was about to make a decision that would change her life completely.  She knew that if Negan ever found her - _and_ _found_ _her_ _here_ \- he would kill everyone.   Maybe even her.   He would feel betrayed, and he would be furious, and he would never, ever forgive her...

…but if she told Morgan who she was and where she came from, Morgan would never let her live.  She would die today, right here in this room.

She knew that by choosing to stay here in Alexandria, she was essentially choosing that over Negan. That’s how he would see it.

She swallowed hard, but forced a smile on her face as she realized she had no choice.  She had already made half her decision when she left Negan, and there was no turning back now.   

“I’m done running.  I won’t try anything stupid, Morgan.  As a matter of fact, I can help out.” Her smile grew as Morgan reached over and cut one of the binds off her left wrist.

“How’s that?” he asked as he cut the other rope off.   Her feet were released next, and he helped her sit up with a hand on her shoulder. Mallory took a few deep breaths to keep the dizziness at bay, and it eventually subsided.   She rubbed at the spots where the ropes had chafed her skin.  

“Well, I was in my 2nd year of rotations at a hospital in Savannah when all this went down, so I’ve got some medical skills.” Mallory continued smiling as Morgan handed her a bottle of water. She quickly opened it and thirstily drank the water down, feeling immediate relief as the liquid wet her parched throat and stomach.

“Well, that is some of the best news I’ve heard in a long time! Denise!” Morgan called for the other woman before turning back to Mallory. “We’ve got a pregnant lady in our group, her name is Maggie, and she's not doing too well.  Rick and some of the others went to take her to another location where they had a doctor.”

Mallory blanched, her heart skipping a beat as she thought about where Maggie was right at this moment.   She knew it wasn’t at the Hilltop, not where Morgan thought they were going.  In fact, it would be a miracle if Maggie hadn’t miscarried after all the stress that she had just gone through.    _Miscarriage_.  She placed the lid back on the bottle of water, no longer thirsty. In fact, she was feeling nauseous again.

“Boy, Rick is sure gonna be happy to have another doc on hand, I tell you that!” Morgan continued happily; he was completely unaware of the turmoil going on inside of Mallory.

A few moments later, a blonde woman named Denise came in and introduced herself.  Mallory didn’t have time to react, or do things differently, and so she smiled and nodded her head, even as her heart continue pounding away in her chest at the deceit she was perpetuating on both sides.

Her only saving grace was that she’d never met any of Rick’s group, although she had seen them from afar.  Rick would never allow her to remain in Alexandria if he knew she was Negan’s girl.

 _And_ _Negan?_  

Today would be the first day that she began purposely hardening her heart against him.   She couldn’t go back to him, not after everything that had happened between them.  There was too much hurt on both sides, too much misunderstanding, and he had become someone that she didn’t know anymore. His heartache and hatred had driven him to do things she’d never thought him capable of, and while she still loved him, she didn’t like him.   Even though he said otherwise, she knew deep down that she was the reason for his rage and anger, and she could’t stand to see the hurt in his eyes when he looked at her after her miscarriage.

There was no one else to blame but her for losing their child.

Decision made,  she took a shaky breath and plastered another fake smile on her face.  She would stay here in Alexandria, and try to make amends to Rick and his group for what Negan had done to them.   And by staying in Alexandria, Negan would never have to see her again.  He would never be reminded of their loss, and he would eventually move on and find someone new to take their place by his side.   Maybe one day he'd even be happy.  Lord knows she tried - _and_ _failed_ \- to make that man happy.  

Yes, her staying here would be the best thing for everyone. 

It would be a win-win for all involved.  


	4. Chapter 4

Late that afternoon, just before night fell, Mallory was awoken by Morgan.

“Mallory! Wake up!” Morgan shook her arm forcefully, finally jarring the newcomer out of her exhausted sleep. 

“What? What’s the matter?” Mallory mumbled as she sat up.  It was still light outside, the sunlight just beginning to fade, and she felt like complete and utter shit.  Her head was throbbing and she was still feeling dizzy.

“It’s Rick.  They’ve come back, and some bad things have happened,” Morgan reached down and handed her shoes to her as he explained.  “But I need you to come help, Mallory. Maggie’s not doing too well, and some of the others are wounded."  

"We need all the help we can get, and-”

“I’m up. It’s okay, I’m up.” Mallory was instantly wide awake, her heart thrumming loudly in her chest, and she scrambled to put her boots on so that she could go where she was needed. 

_Rick was back, which meant Negan had let him go._

She knew at least one person had been killed - _Maggie’s_ _husband_ \- but she had no idea what else Negan had done to these people while they were his prisoners.  With a grimace, she forced him out of her mind, and focused instead on the task at hand.

“Where is she?” Mallory slowly stood, taking care not to move to quick for fear of getting dizzy again.  Morgan laid a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and he looked her over.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I need to help, Morgan,” Mallory assured him with a brave smile.  She tucked her shirt in and smoothed her hair down in an effort to look presentable. “I need to help, okay?”

Without any further argument, Morgan nodded, and quickly led her to where the group was.  Mallory felt sick to her stomach when she saw the state that they were in.

Traumatized was an understatement, and she felt the bile rise in her throat again at Negan’s actions.

Her eyes landed on the man she knew to be the leader, Rick Grimes, and she watched heartbrokenly as he attempted to wrap his arms around his son, the boy that wore the hat.  The teen shoved his father off and ran away, disappearing behind a house.  Rick wearily ran a hand over his face, and turned around as if he were confused.  There was carnage everywhere, and the leader seemed more lost than anyone.  Mallory continued surveying the people before her.   There was a stocky, red-haired man angrily shoving weapons into a duffle bag at the rear of the RV, and he was flanked by a slender woman, who was also rearranging weapons.   Still scanning, Mallory’s eyes finally landed on who she presumed to Maggie.  The woman was laying on a makeshift cot, holding the hand of a man with a cross-bow strapped to his back.   She quickly made her way over to them.

“Maggie?” Mallory asked hesitantly. She had to fight the urge to turn away at the haunted look in the woman’s eyes; she couldn’t begin to imagine the pain that this woman was going through.

   

“Who are you?” The man pointedly asked as he warily looked up at Mallory.  He was dirty, sweaty with messy hair, and had the look of a wild animal, but one that had been forced into a cage by circumstance and necessity.  He certainly didn't trust Mallory, and she would bet he didn't trust anyone all that much, save those outside his group or his family;  she was neither. 

“I’m Mallory.  Morgan found me, but that’s besides the point. I have some medical training, and I’d like to help Maggie if I can,” Mallory ignored the man’s question, her eyes going back to Maggie. The man was looking at her too closely, and she was afraid her eyes would give something away should she continue to look at him.

She knelt down beside Maggie and placed a hand at her forehead. The woman was burning up, her skin pallid and clammy as her teeth chattered in her mouth.  It was a good possibility the pregnant woman was going in to shock right before Mallory's eyes. 

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” Mallory asked gently.  She reached down and took Maggie’s wrist in her hand, feeling for a pulse. It was there, but it was fast, and Mallory began to worry in earnest about shock, and the effect of all this on the baby.

“I feel nauseous,” Maggie mumbled as she lay her head back on the cot. “I’m pregnant…and I don’t know…I feel like I’m losing the baby.”

Mallory watched as the tears spilled over, and rolled down Maggie’s cheeks.

“Aren’t you gonna do somethin’?” the man barked in annoyance, and Mallory had to reign herself in from glaring at him.  The man was about as rude as they come, and she had half a mind to tell him to go fuck himself, but she refrained.   That could come later, and so instead she forced a smile, a reassuring, comforting smile.   The man had been through shit...the least she could do was save his ass-chewing for another day. 

“We need to get her inside.  Get her comfortable, and warm, and I need to get her some fluids.  I’m assuming you have medical supplies?”  Mallory looked up at the man, only to see him still glaring at her.  

“Hell if I know,” the man barked out again, a scowl on his face as he turned away from her.  He yelled over at the red-haired man for help.

Abraham was his name, and the two men quickly carried Maggie into one of the houses.   They were joined by Denise, and between the two of them, managed to get Maggie somewhat stable on fluids.  Without an ultrasound, Mallory had no real way of checking on the baby, but thankfully, Maggie wasn't bleeding.  That was encouraging at least, and there was still hope yet that the child had survived.  When Mallory had okayed a mild pain killer, Maggie had finally fallen into a somewhat peaceful slumber, and she and Denise had stepped out onto the porch to see what else needed to be done.   But just as she stepped out of the house,  she was grabbed, a rough hand at her elbow, and pulled over onto the side of the porch.  She winced as she was pushed forcefully up against the wall, but her eyes flew open when she saw the glint of gunmetal in the porch light. 

“Who are you?” It was Rick Grimes, and he had lifted his Colt, resting it carefully - _but_ _menacingly_ \-  against her temple.

“Rick!” Denise yelped when she realized what was going on.  

“Shut up, Denise!"  Rick growled as he cocked the pistol.  He had a snarl on his face as he pressed the gun even further into Mallory’s temple.  Mallory tilted her head to the side, just barely containing the whimper that wanted to escape at the pain. 

“ _Who_. _Are_. _You_?” he asked again, eunciating each word carefully.

“My...my...my name is...is Mallory.  Morgan found me a few days ago, and brought me here,” Mallory whispered.   Her heart was pounding in her chest with fear.

“Where did you come from?” Rick gritted out.  

“I’m from…Savannah,” Mallory hedged. “I was living on my own, and I got injured, and Morgan found me.”

“A woman, _living_ _on_ _her_ _own_ , out there?” Rick bit out, clearly disbelieving her story.  The gun pressed a little harder against her temple, and this time Mallory couldn't control the moan that escaped.  If he didn't blow her brains out in the next few seconds, she was surely going to have a nasty bruise on her temple. 

“ _Rick!_ ”  Morgan’s deep voice cut through the tense air as he tried to calm his friend down.  “Rick.  Put the gun down, okay?  We don’t have to do this, _okay_?” Morgan placed a hand on Rick’s shoulder, and Mallory’s eyes finally met Rick’s as he moved to stand in front of her.

His crystal, blue eyes were clear, almost ice cold in their veracity, and she again had that feeling that he, along with the other man, could somehow see through her ruse.  Her guilt was eating her alive.   She knew with complete certainty that where Morgan might not have killed her, Rick certainly would.  

If nothing more than to assuage his own pain, he’d kill her in a heartbeat.

She stared back at him, her brown eye meeting his chilly blue ones, and for just a moment, she watched as he struggled with what to do. His face was set in stone, his jaw ticking with indecision.  

“I only want to help, Rick,” Mallory whispered softly.

  

Hearing his name fall from her lips, Rick blinked, seeming to come out of the fog that he was in, if at least for a just a moment, and slowly lowered his gun back to his side.   Mallory just noticed the blood that still coated the skin of his neck, the dark red splatters on his shirt a reminder of what Negan had done to him and the group.  

“I’m trusting you, Morgan,” Rick stated flatly, even though he was still staring at Mallory, “ _but_ _I_ _will_ _kill_ _her_ _if_ _I_ _have_ _to_.  Mark my words.”  His blue eyes bore into her again, searching for any evidence of untruth;  Mallory swallowed deeply and looked down at the ground, unable to keep his gaze.  She heard Rick’s footsteps retreating as he walked back inside the house and shut the door behind him.  Mallory let out the breath she had been holding, and nearly sagged against the wall.

“He’s just upset,” Morgan began softly. “We had a bad day, lost some of our men, and-”

Mallory held her hand up to halt Morgan. “It’s okay. I get it, so no need to apologize.”  She looked around, before looking back up at Morgan. “I’m gonna go see where I can help at, and then I’ll head back to my room.”

Morgan laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You need to take care of yourself, too, Mallory.  You’re not gonna be any good to anyone if you don’t.”

With a small smile, Mallory patted Morgan’s hand before taking her leave.   She had to find something to do, something to make up for what Negan had done.

* * *

 

  
Late that evening, Mallory was finally making her way back to her designated house, when a man stepped out of the shadows, startling her.

“Mallory, right?” Rick’s voice was weary, heavy with the weight of the past few days.

“Uh…yeah,” Mallory replied.  She tucked her hair back behind her ear before wrapping her arms about herself.   Rick cautiously approached her.  

“Look, mind if I walk with you for a minute?” Rick gave her a small smile, and Mallory, encouraged by his demeanor, smiled back. 

“Sure. I’m just heading back to my bed. I’m exhausted.” They fell in step beside each other.

“Look, Morgan told me what you did for Maggie and the others, and I just wanna say I’m sorry for how I approached you,” Rick’s voice was gruff.   

“It’s okay, really, Rick.  I heard about what happened, and I just wanted to help the best I could,” Mallory replied.  Would she ever stop feeling guilty around these people?  She couldn't imagine in a million years Negan offering up help so freely, and she was struck again at how different her life had become in just a few short days…

It was no time before they were at Mallory’s doorstep, as she was staying with Carol, and she and Rick stood before the steps in an awkward silence.  

“Look, really, I’m sorry about that…back there,” Rick looked away and off into the distance.   Mallory could see the pain still clearly etched in his face.   She looked at him more closely, finally seeing him in the pale moonlight. He was cleaned up from when she first met him, his face clear of the blood and grime earlier, and he was quite handsome, truth be told.  Where as Negan had been dark, and brooding, and somewhat arrogant, Rick seemed a much quieter, gentler man, who did his best,  but had a heavy sense of self-doubt weighing about him.  While she had no doubt that Negan cared about her and his people, Rick was the kind of man that saw his group as family; she wasn’t sure if she could say the same about Negan.

Her heart ached a little in her chest as she thought about the man she’d left behind, and she wondered what he was doing, and if he was thinking about her.  Then in the next breath, she wondered why she was still thinking about Negan?  He was a monster;  it had never been more clear than now.  

 _What_ _did_ _that_ _say_ _about_ _her_ _that_ _she miss_ ed _him, still?_

“You alright?” Rick’s voice dragged her out of her reverie, and Mallory was thankful for the cover of darkness that hid the tell-tale blush in her cheeks.  She had to be exhausted, with the way her mind was running away from her!

“Yes! Just tired,” Mallory lied through her teeth again.   She forced that fake smile on her face that she was becoming so good at. 

“Well, I’ll let you get to sleep then,” Rick gave her a half-hearted smile before abruptly turning away.

“Rick?” Mallory called after him, drawing RIck’s gaze back to her.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about Glenn,” Mallory whispered sadly.  He had no idea how sorry she was, and on how many different levels.   Hearing his former friend's name, Rick’s mouth tightened in his grief.  

“Yeah, me too.” He turned and walked away, leaving Mallory staring after him.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif credit - https://img.pandawhale.com/32133-Rick-Grimes-holds-baby-girl-gi-32go.gif  
> http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/epicrapbattlesofhistory/images/7/75/Heartbroken_Rick_Grimes.gif/revision/latest?cb=20160111081339


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: miscarriage/stillbirth. Lots of sadness. I made myself sad with this. WTF is wrong with me?

Nearly 2 months later,  Mallory was walking along the edge of the fence line with Maggie, both women enjoying the last few days of a late fall sun.  Pretty soon it would be really cold, and they’d already had quite a few cool fronts push through, each one progressively lowering the temperature.   The leaves had begun changing colors, various shades of red, yellow, and brown, and each day it was getting a little bit cooler as winter won the battle over summer.  

“I love it when the leaves start changing colors,” Maggie murmured as she hugged herself tightly. “Glen always loved the fall.”

Mallory looked over at her new friend, a sad smile on her face. “Not getting any eaiser, is it?”

“No, and I don't know if it ever will.” Maggie rubbed her growing belly and sighed. “Especially not with this little one reminding me everyday.”

“I can’t imagine how hard it is for you.”

“I think it’s a blessing, though, you know?” Maggie smiled again, but Mallory could see the tears glistening in her friend's eyes.   The pregnant woman stopped and hugged herself, wrapping the heavy shawl around her shoulders a bit tighter in an effort to ward off the chill. 

“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” Mallory stopped beside Maggie and stared out over the empty fields; the only thing separating them from the outside was a tall chain-link fence.

Mallory pulled her hat down low, ensuring that her face was mostly covered, save her eyes, mouth, and nose.   She hadn’t heard anything about Negan since she’d arrived in Alexandria, and she knew he usually didn’t go on runs personally, but she couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t be out looking for her.  As it was, her walks with Maggie had only begun recently, and she usually waited till nighttime for fear of being seen.  Today was just one of those odd days that she couldn’t find an excuse to get out of it, and her heart was just beginning to slow with the setting of the sun;  darkness would soon fall, and conceal her yet again.  

“As active as the baby is, I think it’ll be a boy.  Honestly, I’m just happy that the baby’s growing, you know?” Maggie excitedly gestured to her belly. “Put your hand here!  Feel him kicking!”

Mallory reached over and affectionately placed her hand against Maggie’s tummy, and both women broke out in giggles as they felt the baby kick back against the palms pressed against him.  

“He’s a busy little thing, isn’t he?” Mallory's voice nearly cracked as pulled her hand back, and she did her best to hide the wave of sadness that was threatening to wash over her.  It was the memories, the memories of the past that she couldn't escape, no matter what she tried.

* * *

 

_She remembered what it felt like when her and Negan’s baby had kicked in her stomach..._

_Little flutters, that at first she thought were her imagination, had quickly turned into an almost non-stop reminder that their little family was about to go from two to three.   She remembered intimately what it felt like as they lay in bed at night, her back tucked against Negan’s front, and both of them in wonder at the feeling of their child moving within her. Negan had always said the greatest thing he would ever accomplish was having a baby.   She remembered the way he protectively cradled her burgeoning belly in his large hands._

_“I think we might need to leave this place once the baby gets here,” he’d said as his lips ghosted against her ear._

_“What?” Mallory asked in surprise._

_“This is no life for a baby, not our baby,” Negan had answered simply. “I don’t want to raise a child of mine in a shithole like this, you know? Not with all these fuckers around.”_

_Mallory turned over and wrapped her arms around Negan’s neck, and kissed him softly._

_“Do you know how much I love you?”_

_He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as close as her belly would allow. “It can’t be as much as I love you, babe.”_

_“Are you getting soft in your old age?” Mallory had teased as Negan rolled her over onto her back, and he grinned down at her as she fiddled with the greying beard on his beautiful face.  He tenderly grabbed her fingertip and brought it to his lips._

 

_“Shit! Keep that quiet, okay?  Can’t have these fuckers hearing that.  I got a reputation to keep,” Negan tried to be serious as he admonished her, but Mallory could see the humor in his beautiful brown eyes as she pulled him down for a sweet kiss..._

_Less than a week later, they would be laying in very nearly the same position on their bed as Mallory miscarried their child._

_Miscarried...stillbirth...whatever you want to call it, she’d seen and felt the contractions as her body had rejected their baby.  She’d bled until she couldn’t bleed anymore, and though the child that had been delivered was not yet completely formed,  it was a baby nonetheless.  It had ten fingers and ten toes.  It’s little head was perfect and round, with eyes closed in a peaceful slumber._

_Robert, the only person there besides herself with any kind of medical background, had wrapped the tiny infant in a small towel and placed it on Mallory’s chest.  He'd then taken his leave and left her and Negan alone with their baby._

**_It had been a boy._ **

_Mallory could recall all the times she’d lain awake long after Negan had fallen asleep, her hands caressing her stomach as she thought about the son or daughter they might have._

_**It** **had** **been** **a** **boy**. _

_A tiny, perfect version of herself and the man she loved, and she loved him instantly._

_Unable to deal with his own grief, Negan had left her side.  He’d left her alone in their room, on their bloody bed, while she’d cradled the deceased infant against the bare skin of her chest.  She didn’t know how long she lay there, holding the lifeless body, before a few of the women of their camp had come to clean her up.   She’d fought them like a wild animal when they tried to pry the baby from her.  Logically she knew that the baby was gone, but she just couldn’t let go._

_Letting go meant letting go, and she wasn’t ready for that…_

_It had been Negan that had finally been called to come and remove the baby. He’d finally come back, and with trembling hands, had taken their dead son from Mallory and removed it from the room.  He was the only one she would relinquish their child to, and as he disappeared out of her vision, she vaguely remembered screaming until a blissful darkness overwhelmed her.  For a few days, it was touch and go, her body fighting off infection, and worse, heartache over the loss of her son._

_Mallory simply didn’t have the will to live._

_Negan had set next to their bedside, holding her hands tightly in his as he begged her not to go, to not leave him. She had drifted in and out of consciousness, each time only to wake up screaming for her baby, and each time blacking out again when she realized what had happened. It had taken almost a week for her to fully come out of it, and even then, she still wasn’t right. It was hard to reconcile that there had once been a baby in the spot that was now a flabby tummy.   She felt an emptiness inside that she couldn’t fill, no matter how she tried._

_That day she'd lost not only her son, but Negan as well, and she wondered if she'd ever be okay.  It just hurt so damn much._

* * *

 

It still hurt, even now, and she absentmindedly placed her hand over her now-flat stomach as the memories flooded her mind.  It was Maggie's voice that jerked her out of her brooding and back into present day.  

“Mallory?” Maggie gently shook Mallory’s arm. “You alright?”

“Uh, yeah…” Mallory ducked her head in embarrassment, and used her fingertips to wipe at the corner of her eyes.  She cleared her throat as she tried to regain her composure. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Maggie gently asked. She rubbed Mallory’s shoulder soothingly, encouragingly.  

 _Did_ _she_ _want_ _to_ _talk_ _about_ _it?_  Mallory just barely contained the hysterical giggle that tried to escape at her friend's well-intentioned words.  

“Nah.  Save it for another day, okay?” Mallory forced a cheerful smile on her face, and jerked her head back towards the houses. “It’s getting dark, we should be getting back I think.”

Seeing that her friend was not ready to talk, Maggie nodded her head in acceptance, and the two women silently walked back into town.

* * *

 

  
Across the field, the masked man lowered his binoculars and slunk back into the shadow of the trees.  He couldn’t be sure of what he saw - _was_ _it_ _a_ _ghost?_ \- but he was sure going to go back and report it to Negan.  

If he was indeed the lucky bastard that had finally found Negan’s woman, he’d knock that son-of-a-bitch Dwight off his fucking high horse once and for all.

Yes, he would.


	6. Chapter 6

Almost a month later, just before dawn, the Saviors showed up at the gates of Alexandria.

After being alerted, Rick, Morgan, Daryl, and Abraham calmly walked up to the front gates, weapons at the ready. The goal was to keep things as peaceful as possible, but they would take no chances. Since that night, as long as Rick and his group had given up what Negan wanted, nothing adverse had happened since. While everyone knew Rick wasn't comfortable with this situation, it made the most sense right now. They were all still recovering from that night, and starting a war with Negan was not the smartest thing right now.

Everyone - _including_ _Negan_ \- knew Rick was just biding his time.

_This peace would not last long._

“Morning, Rick,” Dwight called with cheerful sarcasm.

“You’re early.  What do you want?” Rick’s jaw ticked in aggravation.  His palm idly rested against the Colt at his hip.  

“It’s not what I want, it’s what Negan wants.” Dwight shifted his own weapon in his hands.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I know.  What does Negan want now?” Rick looked around at the 4 vehicles before his gate, his eyes searching for any sign of the man with the barbed-wire wrapped bat.

_Speak of the devil..._

“Let’s ask the man, huh?”  Dwight turned and motioned to one of the far vehicles.  The door opened, and Negan stepped out, unfolding himself to his full height. He closed his door, that signature grin in place as he sauntered up the gate.  The fucker didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

“How ya fuckin’ doing, Rick?”

Rick’s jaw ticked harder as he glared at the enemy before his gates.  Behind him, Daryl shifted in aggravation.

“Daryl. Abraham, right?” Negan continued in that patronizing tone of his.  He tilted his head to the side as he stared at Morgan. “You’re fuckin’ new.”

“What do you want?” Rick growled, interrupting Negan.

“What do I fuckin’ want?” Negan turned his attention back to Rick.  The grin was still there, but his earlier humor was gone. He stepped closer to the fence, and stared down at Rick. “Well first, I want you to open this goddamned fence, and get the fuck outta our way.  You can start there.”

Rick glared back at Negan, the only thing separating the two men a flimsy chain length fence.

“Don’t get brave, Rick,” Negan’s voice had lowered an octave in his warning.  “I’ll kill every fuckin’ one of you, right here, right fuckin’ now.  I’m trying to show you how reasonable I can be, but you’re making it hard as fucking fuck.”  Negan tapped on the fence with Lucille, an ominous warning.

Without taking his eyes off Negan, Rick pulled the pin from the gate lock, and he and Abraham pulled the gate to the side, opening it wide.  Negan’s men stepped through the opening and made their way into Alexandria; Negan followed behind, flanked on each side by a man from his camp.  Lucille casually rested on his shoulder, a silent reminder of the hell this man could unleash.

As the outsiders made their way into the town, the Alexandria group members quickly locked themselves in their houses.  Negan waved and grinned when he caught someone’s eye, but most of Rick’s group had already secured themselves inside their homes, although some were cautiously peeking out from behind curtains.  When they made their way to the center of the town, Negan stopped, effectively halting the whole group.

“What do you want?” Rick gritted out again. His patience was wearing thin, but he knew there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to Negan at the moment.  He knew surer than shit that Negan had at least a 100 men outside the perimeter, just waiting for something to go down.  He could kill Negan right now, but he knew he’d get his entire town slaughtered in the process.

_It was a risk he couldn’t take. Not yet._

* * *

From behind the curtain in Maggie’s room, Mallory stared in disbelief.

Negan was less than 30 feet away from her.  His back was turned to her, but she knew that frame, knew the long, lean lines of his body.

_She knew that red scarf that he had tied about his waist._

She closed the curtain and slid down the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees as she trembled.  She had managed to avoid him for so long, but now he was _right_ _there_.

“Mallory?” Maggie asked quietly as she too peeked out of the corner of the window. She quickly pulled the curtain back once she saw what was happening outside.

Mallory looked up at Maggie, fear clearly evident on her face, and she just shook her head.   _What_ _could_ _she_ _say?_

“You don’t have to be worried, okay?” Maggie tried to reassure Mallory. The pregnant woman knelt down beside her friend and grasped her hand in hers. “Rick will work out something, and they’ll leave. They always do, okay?”

“But…but Negan is…is…here,” Mallory stuttered fearfully. She couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the shudders as they shook her entire body. “He’ll find me, and he’ll…he’ll take me…and...I shouldn't have come here!” Mallory covered her ears and started rocking softly.

Maggie stared down at her friend in confusion.

 

* * *

  
“It’s come to my attention that you might have a new guest here,” Negan scratched his beard thoughtfully.  He needed to shave that shit off, but the razors he liked were in short demand at the moment.

“We don’t!” Daryl barked from behind Rick.

“Call off your fuckin’ dog, Rick.” Negan dismissed Daryl with a casual flick of his hand.  He started walking again, and Rick fell into step beside him.

“We don’t have anyone new here.” Rick lied through his teeth.

_Mallory?_ Rick scrambled to make sense of what was going on, and she was the first thing that popped up in his mind.  

“Of course you don’t,” Negan laughed to himself.  He stopped, and stared down at Rick with that infuriating grin. “You’d fuckin’ tell me if you did, right?” He clapped Rick on the shoulder.  “Of fuckin’ course you fuckin’ would.  I know we started off on the wrong foot, but we’re pals now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d tell ya,” Rick ground out, ignoring the rest of Negan’s statement.  He wanted nothing more than to put a bullet right between this son-of-a-bitch’s eyes, to drop him right here in the middle of Alexandria. 

Negan turned around, his brown eyes searching the houses and windows for any sign of her, but he found none.

He’d not been able to wait any longer after getting the news from Miller that there was possible sighting of Mallory. He’d wanted to come that very day, that night even, but he knew he had to prepare.   He had to make sure.   It had been almost 3 months since she’d left him, and he knew the odds were stacked against him… _and_ _her_.  He wouldn’t even entertain the thought that she was dead, though.   _No_ _fucking_ _way_ _was_ _he_ _going_ _to_ _think_ _about_ _that_.

_But to be at Alexandria? Right under his fucking nose?_ He simply couldn’t believe that, and had to come see for himself.

He knew how dangerous it was, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered was finding Mallory. 

“So, you’ve come and seen, and she’s not here.”

_“She?”_   Negan asked with a sly grin.  He cocked his head to the side, mulling over Rick’s statement in his head.  Had the leader of Alexandria just told on himself?

“She, he, whoever it is. They’re not here,” Rick continued.  His anger was rising at Negan’s games, and he was pissed that he'd let Negan get in his head.  

“So what the fuck are you saying, Rick?  Are you saying I need to fuckin’ leave?” Negan lifted Lucille off his shoulder and lazily spun her around on the tip of his boot.

“I’m saying what you want - _who_ _you_ _want_ \- is not here.” Rick’s voice was hard in his anger, and Negan couldn’t control the laugh that escaped. His laughter was cut short as 3 of his men appeared, Dwight leading the way.

“No sign of her, boss.”

Negan looked around the town once more, his jaw tightening as he knew he’d come for nothing.  He had no reason to stay any longer if she wasn’t here.

“Well, since we’re here, we’ll go ahead and collect half your shit.  Save us a fucking trip next week.” Negan nodded at Dwight.  “Get half their shit.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Close my eyes**  
**Feel you sigh**  
**A desperate aching wonder**  
**Will you ever, ever let me off my knees?**

 

Later that evening, Negan was sitting on their bed, his gun in hand as usual.  As he did every night since she left, he placed the tip of the pistol up under his chin, and prayed for the strength to carry through.  His finger rested against the trigger, just a hairs’ breadth of ending it all, but he couldn’t do it.

His eyes landed on the red scarf where it was laying in heap on the bedside table, a silent reminder of everything that he had lost. He reached over and took the scarf in his hand as he lowered the pistol. He shook his head as a mirthless chuckle rumbled deep in his throat; he was as spineless as they came.

_Couldn’t even pull the damn trigger to get himself out of this mess._

“Son of a fucking bitch!” he grumbled as he fell back on their bed in a defeated heap;  the pistol lay against his chest, under the red scarf.  If he had the courage to end it all, what a relief that would be.

_Just check out._

No questions, just here one day and gone the next…

A knock came at the door.

‘What?!” He barked as he stood up and straightened his clothing.  The door slowly opened, and he saw that it was Carson, along with some new chick.

“I’ve brought Amber to see you, sir,” Carson informed Negan as he ushered the woman inside.  Amber suggestively batted her heavily made-up lashes up at Negan.

“Leave us,” Negan ordered. Carson did as he asked, and closed the door on his way out; it was only the two of them in the room. Negan stared at the woman before him.

“I was told I could volunteer to be one of your wives?” Amber purred as she sauntered over to him. Her full breasts were on full display, just barely concealed by the flimsy material of her bra.   Negan licked his lips, and he was true enough to himself to admit that he was turned on.

He had all these women throwing themselves at him, and he’d yet to take any one of them up on their offer.  It was his idea to start up the “wives”. He hated the way the men pawed at the small number of women in his camp, but he knew as long as he put his mark on them, they’d not be touched.  He detested rape…any kind of sexual violence actually.   _It_ _was_ _unseemly,_ he thought.  But since he’d always had Mallory, he’d never needed one of these women.  It had always been a front, something to keep the women safe, and Mallory had begrudgingly gone along with it, even though she detested the idea of anyone even claiming they were with him.  She would never share him with anyone, nor would he share her with anyone.

But now? Now she was gone, and he’d not felt a woman’s touch in so long.   Almost 3 months now.

He needed a good fuck.

Maybe it would take his mind off of her.

_She had left him after all, so he was free and clear to do what he wanted, right?_

Amber ran her fingers up Negan’s front, quickly undoing the buttons of his shirt and revealing his chest.  When she placed her small hands against his bare chest and placed a kiss on one of his tattoos, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

There was a war battling within him, a battle between wanting to forget her…and _never_ _wanting_ _to_ _let_ _her_ _go._

_She’s_ _dead,_ _Negan!_ he told himself angrily.  His hand reached out to snake behind Amber’s head and he pulled her to him for a kiss.  Her lips landed on his as her sharp nails raked across his back, pulling him to her.  She pushed his shirt off his chest, and he removed it the rest of the way as he dragged her over to the bed.   Once there, he sat down, pulling Amber down onto his lap.   She giggled as she squirmed against him. He could smell the scent of cigarettes and cheap perfume, and his stomach roiled as he tried to ignore his guilt.

“I’m going to fuck your brains out,” Amber throatily purred against his ear as she nipped at him.

Negan froze at her words.

Mallory was such a sweetheart, and he’d probably blush if he heard her speak like that.  He felt dirty, and ashamed of his actions with this woman. He pushed her off his lap and she landed on the floor in a startled heap.

“What the fuck?” Amber grumbled as she stood up.

“You sleep over there,” Negan ordered as he pointed to a couch. “You don’t touch me, and I don’t touch you.”

“It’s that bitch, Mallory, isn’t it?” Amber seethed like a scorned cat. “She’s not coming back!”

Negan’s whole body changed, and he rose from the bed to his full height.  He towered over her angrily, fists balled against his sides, and Amber quickly looked away. Negan reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze head on. The woman had paled almost instantly under his glower.

“Don’t ever fucking try that again, understand?”

Amber nodded in understanding.

“Don’t ever let Mallory’s name come out of your filthy, fucking mouth.  I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. I will fucking bash your brains in and feed it to my fucking dog, do you fucking understand?”

Again, Amber nodded. She was trembling now, her whole body shaking as Negan released her.

“Get your skinny little ass on that couch. If you breathe a word of tonight to any fucking body, I’ll kill every fucking one of you.”

Amber quickly made her way to the couch and buried herself under a blanket.  Negan sat back down on the edge of their bed and lay back, more angry with himself than ever.  He sighed wearily as he closed his eyes, but it was a short-lived reprieve:  a brunette with dimples appeared, and his eyes flew open to stare up at the ceiling.  Sleep would evade him yet again, it seemed.  Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her.

Every fucking time.

_Would he ever be rid of her?_


	8. Chapter 8

“It was him.” Mallory’s voice was quiet, but the weight of her confession was overpowering in the small room. She felt as if she were suffocating, her lungs screaming for air as her heart pounded away in her chest.  She couldn't do it any longer.  She couldn't lay here, next to Maggie, and pretend that everything was fine.  She had to tell someone or she would go insane. 

“Him, who?” Maggie rolled over and faced her friend. The two women were sleeping in the same bed, much as they had done for the past month or so.

“Negan. He’s the man I told you about, the one that I loved, and had the…had the miscarriage with. He’s the reason I ran, Maggie.”

Maggie sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest as she took in Mallory’s revelation.

“He was the one who killed Glen, and he did it because I lost our baby.” Mallory continued, speaking more to herself than anyone else.  Beside her, Maggie had very nearly stopped breathing.

“I begged him not to, to not kill anyone, but after I lost our baby, he changed, Maggie.  He turned into some kind of monster that…something that I couldn’t understand.  He _was_ a good man, Maggie.  Not the monster he is now.” A tear rolled down Mallory’s cheek as she thought about Negan.  There was a time when he would have been considered a good man, an honest man even.  It was her inability to carry their child that had turned him into the monster that he was now.  

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Maggie mumbled as she rolled out of bed.  

A few moments later, Mallory heard the pregnant women retching in the bathroom.  When Maggie finally rejoined Mallory in their bedroom, Mallory was laying in the same position, staring up at the ceiling, her expression blank.

“We don’t speak a word of this to anyone, you hear?” Maggie ordered quietly.  She sat back down on the bed. “This is between us, and no one else, understand?”

"But what about Rick?  Don't you think I should tell him?"

"No!  Mallory, listen to me, okay? If you tell Rick, I don't know what he might do.  Let's just keep this to ourselves, okay?  Nobody has to know."

Mallory started crying in earnest, sobbing, as Maggie reached over and enveloped her in a hug.

The two women grieved together, both mourning the loss of the men they loved.

* * *

**Approximately 4 months later….**

  
“Okay Maggie, here’s what we’re gonna do, okay?” Mallory smiled as she reached over and helped Maggie lift her head up against the pillows. “I just need you to reach behind your knees, and pull back. Then, when you feel ready, we’re going to start pushing, okay?”

Without answering, Maggie nodded her head, even as she hissed through her teeth as another contraction took her.  She had been in labor for nearly 14 hours, and she was beyond exhausted;  the contractions had no beginning or end, with one coming right after the other.   She struggled to focus on Mallory’s voice, to think of the reward when this was all over.

“So, when you feel the urge to push, you just go ahead, okay?” Mallory encouraged as she took her position at the foot of the bed between Maggie’s legs.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” Michonne smiled as she tightly gripped her friends’ hand in hers. “So brave.”   She reached over and pushed some damp tendrils of hair off Maggie’s forehead.

_“1,_ _2,_ _3,_ _4_ … _”_   Mallory began counting in rhythm to Maggie’s breaths….


	9. Chapter 9

  
“He’s beautiful, Maggie,” Rick murmured as he held Maggie’s newborn son against his chest.  Maggie smiled sleepily from her bed, completely exhausted but so in love with her new baby.  It had been nearly 26 hours of labor,  but it had all been worth it.  

“He looks like his father,” Maggie smiled happily.

“He does.” Rick agreed as he handed the baby back to it’s mother. “Have you decided on a name yet?”

“I’m thinking Hershel, after daddy of course.  Hershel Glenn Rhee,” Maggie smiled again as she pressed her lips to the baby’s head.  The baby began to fuss, and Maggie moved the blanket so that she could feed the baby.

“I think that’s perfect, sweetie,” Rick leaned over and kissed Maggie on the forehead. “I’m gonna leave, give you some alone time, okay? You let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Maggie replied as she set baby Hershel to her breast.

Rick made his way out to the front door, but stopped when he saw Mallory in the kitchen cleaning up. He made his way over to her, a smile still on his face.

“Thank you.”

“Oh god!” Mallory jumped, clutching the rag she’d been using to clean with to her chest.  When she saw it was Rick, she gave him a tired smile.  “You scared the crap outta me.”

“You’re exhausted,” RIck smiled as he reached out and absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair back behind Mallory’s ear.  He stilled when he realized what he had done, and quickly lowered his hand, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“Yeah, it’s been a long night,” Mallory mumbled as she turned back to the sink.

“Why don’t you come take a walk with me?” Rick asked quietly.  He reached around Mallory and pulled the rag from her hand, forcing her to look at him. “You need a break, and Maggie is feeding the baby.”

Mallory looked over at the open door to Maggie's bedroom. 

“They’ll be fine, and we won’t be gone long.  Just enough to get you a breath of fresh air,” Rick coaxed her gently.  

Mallory sighed, knowing she needed to get out of the house, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go with Rick.  She couldn't quite figure out what had been going on between her and Rick lately.  She could tell he had been differently towards her, and while she found him attractive, she knew she wasn’t ready for another relationship.  She just wasn’t ready, and she wasn’t sure when or if she would ever be ready.  It had been so long since she'd been in a relationship, and she certainly didn't want to lead him on, but she just didn't know what she was feeling for him.   

“Okay, but just for a minute,” she warned him, one eyebrow arched as she pointed her finger at him.

“One minute,” Rick agreed with a grin.  He waited while Mallory went to let Maggie know what was going on, and when she was sufficiently satisfied with everything, she followed Rick out on to the front porch and down into the street.

“That was amazing what you did back there,” Rick began.  

Mallory snorted as she adjusted the scarf around her face.  She still never went out without it concealing her features, especially not since that day that Negan had shown.   She was always on alert, never sure if he would come back or not. 

“Delivering a baby? It happens every day, Rick.”

“Not in our world it doesn’t,” Rick argued back gently. They continued walking until they wound up by the small lake in the middle of the town. Rick led Mallory to the small bench, and they both sat in a comfortable silence.  Mallory inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with fresh air. Rick was right, it did feel good out here after the day she’d had…

“Look, Mallory, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something…and…” Rick began nervously.  Mallory turned to look at him, her lips quirked up in a smile at him.  She gently bumped him with her shoulder as she tried to keep the atmosphere light.  

“Is Rick Grimes nervous about something?” She teased him playfully, earning a laugh from Rick.  She felt awkward as hell, and had no idea how to proceed with Rick - _if_ _that_ _was_ _the_ _direction_ _he_ _was_ _heading._ She just didn't want him to assume she felt some way, when she didn't even know how she felt!

He ran a hand along the back of his neck as he continued talking.

“I’m just gonna come out right and say it, okay?” Rick looked at her before quickly looking away.  

Mallory felt her heart speed up, because she had a pretty good idea where this was going, given the way he’d been behaving the past few months.  She gripped the edge of the bench tightly, willing him to say something different.  She didn't want their friendship to be affected in any way. 

“I sound like a damn teenager, or something…but I just…well, Mallory, the thing is-”

_He was going that way..._

“Please don’t, Rick,” Mallory whispered as she stood up.  Rick stood up as well.

“Tell me you don’t feel anything for me,” Rick grabbed her arm, pulling it from where it was wrapped around her forearm and laced his fingers with hers. Mallory refused to look at him, and stared off at the walls instead.

“Tell me you don’t,” Rick murmured as he turned her to face him.  

Mallory’s breath caught when she felt him tilt her chin up, and when his lips landed on hers, she stopped breathing completely.  She felt herself melt into him, his warm lips caressing hers as his hands pulled her to him. She placed a palm against his chest, but instead of pushing him away, she felt herself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer as she breathed him in.  She felt him pulling the scarf away from her head, and she instinctively pressed herself into him.  It had been so long since she’d felt the warmth of a man, so long, and-

“God, Mal,” Rick breathed against her lips as his hand tangled in her hair.  Mallory stilled, not having heard that nickname in so long. Negan was the only one who’d ever called her that since the outbreak…

_Negan._

“Rick…Rick! I can’t do this!” She pushed him back, frantically wiping at her lips in an effort to rid herself of him and the feeling of his skin against hers.  Without a word, she ran from him, straight back to her house and went inside.

Back at the lake, Rick stood with hands on his hips as he tried to figure out what had just happened.

* * *

Across the fence line, hidden just out of view, Negan lowered his binoculars and stumbled back into the shadows.

He was stunned.

Hell, stunned was an understatement.

It was barely a week ago that his men had come back from Alexandria and told him they thought they’d seen Mallory _again_ , of all fucking places. He didn’t believe them, since it had been over 7 months since she’d walked out on him;  He’d been to Alexandria numerous times, and had never seen her.  Not even a hint that she might have been there.  Nothing. 

_Had she been purposely hiding from him?_

“Huh,” he mumbled to himself as he leaned back against a tree.  He didn’t know what he was feeling right now, but he knew it wasn't good.  He felt like someone had kicked him square in the fucking stomach, as if they'd knocked the wind right out of him. 

Anger? Rage, even?

_Hurt?_

Yeah, he was most definitely hurt.

Just seeing Mallory walking with Rick Grimes had set his heart to pounding in his chest, but to see her kiss him? That had gutted him, and even now he felt nauseous.  He gripped the tree with one hand, doing his best to regulate his breathing.

Was she sleeping with Grimes? And for how long?

He blinked back hot tears of anger and hurt and squared his jaw in an effort to ward off his emotions.  That was something he couldn’t think about.  He stumbled back to his truck that was hidden deep in the woods and punched the shit out of the door.  He immediately regretted that decision, and winced in pain as he swore loudly under his breath.  He didn’t give a fuck if anyone heard, though.  His only saving grace was that he’d come alone, for the tears that rolled down his cheeks at Mallory’s betrayal were for his eyes alone.  He swiped them away angrily, and turned to look back at Alexandria once again.

_He was going to burn that whole fucking place down to the motherfucking ground._

_God_ _damn_ _her_ , he thought bitterly.  Here he was, out looking for her for over half a fucking year, and she’s been shacked up with his enemy.  Probably fucking Grimes every night, probably laughing at how stupid he was at not realizing she was so damn close.  Right under his fucking nose all this fucking time. 

_God fucking damn her._

Visions of her and Grimes in bed together flooded his brain, and his vision went red yet again. He’d formed somewhat of an alliance with Grimes, and for this shit to be going on?  He was going to kill that little shit, and yes, he was going to light the whole fucking town on fire just because he could.  He grabbed the door handle and jerked on it.

Negan had the truck door half-open when he heard the voice come out of the shadows.  Two seconds later he felt the tip of a rifle pointed against his back, and he slowly raised his hands over his head.  

“I don’t believe this shit.” The voice, quiet and raspy, could belong to no other.  Daryl pressed the tip of his rifle into Negan's back a little harder. 

 _Just_ _fucking_ _swell_ , Negan thought to himself, this turn of events…

“Grimes’s little fucking bitch, aren’t you?” Negan sneered, just before his world went black.  

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Wake up!”

Another kick to his side jarred Negan awake, and he rolled over onto his knees and forearms, his intention to get up, but he wobbled as a wave of dizziness struck.   Another blow landed.  This time he felt the boot to his stomach, and it flipped him back over to his back.  He groaned as he stared up at the night sky.

_Just mother fucking swell…._

“Just fucking kill me, Grimes,” Negan chuckled as he coughed up blood. “Don’t be a fucking bitch; pull the trigger.  Don’t fail me now.”

Daryl grabbed Negan by his jacket and hoisted him up to his knees.  Rick landed another blow across Negan’s cheek, and he again tasted the metallic blood before it dribbled down his chin.  His vision was blurry, what with a mixture of sweat and blood running rivulets between his brows and into his eyes.  Still, he grinned up at Rick in mockery.

Rick punched him again, and this time Negan saw stars and he rocked back on his knees as he struggled to remain upright.

“Just fucking-“

Another blow to his back from Daryl put him face-first on the concrete again.

When he felt the tip of Rick’s pistol at his temple, he smiled in relief.

_Finally._

* * *

 

  
Mallory watched from behind the curtain, her vision blurry with tears.  Her chest was heaving as she tried to calm down.  

“Don’t do it, Mallory,” Maggie begged her friend. “Please, don’t go out there. Rick will kill you if he finds out.”

Mallory took a shaky, deep breath before opening the door wide and running out into the night.

“Rick! Stop!” Mallory screamed just as Rick was about to pull the trigger.  She had come out of hiding, tears rolling down her cheeks at the choice she had to make. Negan stared up at her from his spot on the concrete at RIck’s feet.  She would never forget the look in those beautiful brown eyes as he stared up at her.

“Mallory,” Negan gave her a sad, defeated smile.   Rick looked between the two of them in confusion.

“Rick, please stop.” Mallory moved closer to him, her hands in the air in an attempt to call the man down.  Rick pressed his pistol even harder into Negan’s head, pushing the dark-haired man down to the ground.  Negan’s bloody jaw scraped along the concrete as Rick shoved harder against the fallen man.

“You know him?” Rick hissed as he held Negan down.

“Yes, I know him. I was…living with the Saviors before coming here.” Mallory confessed quietly. The gasp heard from the growing crowd was audible, and she felt lower than low as she felt their accusing eyes turn on her.  She scurried over to Negan and fell down beside him, not caring anymore about the consequences.  Rick would just have to shoot them both.  

She finally got a good look at Negan, and her heart broke anew.

He was so badly beaten, his rugged face cut and bloodied from the blows Rick and Daryl had landed on him over the past hour. The area around his eyes was rapidly swelling, his lips busted wide open, and he had blood dripping down the side of his right ear.  After the initial glance, he refused to look at her, and when she touched his arm, he angrily jerked away from her.  Sobbing, Mallory scooted back from him, her back bumping into Daryl’s legs.

"Daryl! Get her out of here!" Rick ordered as he held Negan down. 

   '

Daryl stared down at Mallory, and then back up at Rick, before finally reaching down and grabbing Mallory about her arms.  

“Come on, Mallory,” Daryl jerked her up, and dragged her, kicking and screaming away from the scene and back to the house that had the makeshift cell in it.  Daryl pushed her inside, and shut the door.

“It’s for your own good,” he muttered as he locked the latch.

“Daryl, please, I’m begging you!” Mallory cried as she reached through the bars and grasped his hand. “Please don’t let Rick kill him.  Please.  We’ll leave, and I’ll make sure he never comes back.   _Please_.”

Daryl looked off towards the door, his face set in stone as he contemplated what to do. Mallory was his friend, but Negan was Negan, and...

“Daryl, please,” Mallory whimpered again as she tightened her grip on his hand.  Without a word, Daryl shrugged her hands off him and headed back outside.

Mallory sank down to the ground inside the cell, and covered her ears so as not to hear what came next.


	11. Chapter 11

A few minutes later…a few hours - _she_ _had_ _no_ _idea_ _which_ _it_ _was_ \- Daryl came to let her out.  She was delirious with exhaustion and worry, and operating under the assumption that they had killed Negan.   She mumbled to herself as she continued to cry softly, her words indecipherable;  she was so out of it that Daryl had to carry her back to Maggie’s.  It was still dark, the house quiet, and she wordlessly lay down on the couch where he sat her.  He disappeared without a word, back out into the darkness.  

_She was numb._

She was so numb, so far over the edge that she didn’t know where she was.  Her mind was running away with her, the conflicting thoughts swirling about, confusing her even more.   She didn’t know what to do with herself.   She wanted to die with him.   She wanted to save him.   She felt guilty, and ashamed of herself.  She should have stopped Rick, should have done something to help Negan, but she didn’t.  She should have been honest with Rick and the rest of the group. She wished Rick would have killed her as well, because she had nothing to live for anymore.  It had never been more evident than tonight, never more obvious where her heart still belonged.  Now that he was gone, she didn’t think she had it in her to continue on.  Why had she been so stupid? Why didn’t she just go back to him when she had the chance? _God!!_

With a whimper, she rolled over and bit on her balled fist to keep herself quiet.  She felt like she was going to go insane and wanted to start screaming to relieve the pressure, but she knew that wasn't an option.  Maybe tomorrow she would find a way to leave Alexandria...maybe she would just let the walkers take her.  Save Rick and the others a bullet...

“He’s not dead, Mallory.” Maggie’s hushed whisper floated over to Mallory, through her misery, and jolted her awake.  She sat up, her heart in her throat as she stared over at Maggie’s silhouette in the doorway.  Little baby Hershel was protectively pressed against his mother's chest.

‘What?” Mallory whispered back.

“They put him in the holding cell after they took you out.  They’ll probably kill him tomorrow, but Rick wanted to wait until the morning to decide.”

Mallory stood up and pulled her jacket back on.

“Why are you telling me this?”  Finished dressing, Mallory stared at her friend. 

“Beacause I once loved someone that I would do anything for.” Maggie sniffled as she clutched the baby. “Anything.”

* * *

 

“Negan?” Mallory whispered as she crept into the room holding his cell.  She could just barely see him, as he was huddled in the corner with his back against the wall.  He’d forgone the makeshift bed he’d been offered and sat on the floor instead.

“What a fuckin’ surprise this is.”

Mallory flinched at the hatred in his tone;  she’d never heard him talk to her in that way, and it stung.  It hurt really, really bad, and she knew she deserved it, but it hurt so damn bad.  Still, she made her way over to him and stood before the cell, her hands resting on the bars as she peered in.  His face was covered in shadows.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Good.”

“Negan, please,” Mallory cried softly. “I’m sorry.”

Without her realizing he had done it, Negan had quickly moved to stand before Mallory, and reached out, his hand closing around her throat as he reached through the bars.  Mallory sputtered and choked, her fingers closing around his forearm as he squeezed tighter.  He pulled her closer to him, so close that she could see the whites of his eyes from beneath swollen lids.  His eyes glinted with fury.

“I should kill you,” Negan growled softly, but Mallory felt him mercifully releasing her and she sucked in a great big gulp of air.  With a sigh, he pulled his hand back into his cage and turned around.

 “Go away.”  His shoulders slumped in defeat, and Mallory felt tears welling up in her eyes again.

“They’re going to kill you,” she whispered through her tears.

“What does it matter anymore, Mal?” Negan walked back over to his spot and sat down again.  He was bone tired, and he felt like shit, and all he wanted to do was close his eyes; he didn’t have the energy to deal with Mallory right now.  “What does it fucking matter?”

“Negan, please!” Mallory cried again. “We have to get you out of here!” She gripped the bars of the cell as she pleaded with him.

“Do you love him?” Negan ignored her plea.

“Wha…what?” Mallory asked in confusion.  What was he talking about? 

“Fucking Grimes. Do you love him?” Negan asked again, determinedly.

“No! Of course not! I care for him, for all the people here, but I don’t love him,” Mallory cried softly, her tears rolling down her cheeks. _God_ , _this_ _was_ _all_ _just_ _hopeless_!

“He seems to make you happy,” Negan mused quietly. “I saw you with him, saw you laughing. You seemed happy.” He stroked his jaw thoughtfully, and winced when he felt the sticky blood still caking his jaw.  

“Negan, stop, please!” Mallory cried again.

“Maybe it’s for the best, you know? Y’all can do all the things we couldn’t, maybe you’ll even be fucking happy.” He chuckled to himself, but there was no humor in him.

Mallory sat beside his cell and cried softly, not knowing what else to do.

“Go away, Mal,” Negan ordered softly.  “Go away, and let me fucking be.”  He turned away from her, his back the only thing she could see in the dim light. With tears blinding her, Mallory stood up and left the room, closing the door behind her.

She slammed right into Rick’s chest, and he grabbed her about her upper arms.

“Is there something you need to tell me, _Mal?_ ”  The way Rick snarled her name, Mallory knew he’d heard everything. He angrily jerked her by her arm, back into the room that held Negan’s cell, and flipped the light on.  Negan immediately jumped to his feet, and rushed to the bars.

“So what have we got here?” Rick dragged a whimpering Mallory over to the front of Negan’s cell.  Negan angrily gripped the bars as he watched Rick manhandle Mallory.

“If you touch a hair on her head, I’ll fuckin’ kill you, Grimes,” Negan warned the other man.

“Yeah, I bet,” Rick shot back. “She with you?”

“Not anymore.”

“Rick, please!” Mallory cried as he twisted her arm again up into the center of her back.    He dragged her over to the cell entrance, and forced her up against the bars.  Negan stood firm, his jaw hardened in frustrated anger at Rick’s actions.

“Do whatever you want with me, Grimes, but don’t fucking hurt her.  She didn’t do anything wrong,” Negan’s voice was immeasurably calm in light of the situation.

Rick twisted Mallory’s arm again, causing her to cry out.  Negan stepped forward, his fists balled in anger at the other man.

“I should kill her now, just like you did Glen.” Rick pressed the barrel of the Colt into Mallory’s temple, forcing her cheek against the cold metal bars of the cell. “Hell, I should just-”

“Rick, stop!”

Maggie’s voice, tired but forceful, called out to him from the doorway.  Rick pulled Mallory back, but kept his hand tight on her neck all the while his pistol rested at her temple.  He turned around to look at Maggie.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Maggie clutched her baby against her chest as she slowly moved forward.  Her eyes were teary as she pleaded with Rick.

“Please, no more killing. Mallory is my friend.”

“Yeah, well she lied. And her boyfriend killed Glen, or did you forget that?” Rick snarled again.  Maggie faltered, and took a step back at Rick's harsh words.  

“No, Rick. I haven’t forgotten that.” Maggie’s voice hitched, and her sad eyes darted to Negan, before looking back at Rick. “But we can’t keep killing. When will it stop?” The baby whimpered in Maggie’s arms, clearly picking up on his mother’s tension.

“So what do we do, Maggie? _Let_ _them_ _go?_ ” Rick’s voice had grown incredulous as he stared at the woman before him.

“I don’t know what to do, but please don’t do this, Rick.  Not like this.” Maggie reached out and placed a hand on Rick’s cheek as she pleaded with him.  “Please don’t.”

With a growl, Rick spun Mallory around but pointed his pistol at Negan.

“Back up,” he ordered the other man as he pushed Mallory towards the opening.  Negan did as he instructed, and slowly backed up until his back was pressed against the far wall.

Never taking his eyes off Negan, Rick unlocked the gate and roughly pushed Mallory in.  She stumbled forward, and fell to her knees.  She was silently crying, both tears of relief and sadness.

Without a word, Rick turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Maggie alone with the two prisoners.   Maggie’s eyes met Negan’s briefly, before she too left the room.

Mallory sat crying softly in the middle of the cell floor, her shoulders shaking in her grief as she curled in on herself.  

Negan wanted to go to her, but he was too angry with her.  He didn’t want her in this cell with him, but everything in him was telling him to pick her up, to tell her he still loved her, and that he would do anything for her.  He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her.  There were so many things he wanted to tell her, to make her understand that he still loved her, to hold her against his chest and promise that he would fix things. That he was sorry.  To tell her he was more sorry than he'd ever been, and he knew he'd fucked up, and he would do anything to show her that. He had never in a million years thought he would put his hands on her like that, and he was so goddamned disgusted with himself.  He wanted to apologize so badly...

_But he didn’t..._

He didn’t go to her, and he didn’t speak to her. Heavy with regret and frustrated anger, he slid back down the cell wall and closed his eyes.  He placed his large hands over his ears, and focused on the pain that was splitting his skull in two.

Anything to drown out the sound of Mallory’s tears.


	12. Chapter 12

A few hours later, Mallory was prodded awake with something pressed insistently against her thigh.  She sat up, disoriented, and looked around.  

“Get up, Mallory.”

It was Maggie’s voice, and Mallory struggled to focus her eyes on her former friend.   She scooted forward in the cell.

“This is your chance, so take it and go,” Maggie’s face was tear-streaked as she pointed the gun at Negan.  “Take him and leave, and don’t come back.”

“Maggie, wait…I don’t-”

“Just go, Mallory. Don’t ask questions, and don’t come back.” Maggie scooted back and Mallory realized that the cell door was open, just barely ajar.

“Why are you doing this? Rick will-” Mallory protested again, only to be cut off again.

“This is your chance, Maggie. I’ll deal with Rick.”  She flicked her 9mm in Negan’s direction.  Mallory turned, and saw that Negan was wide awake, watching the interaction between the two women carefully.   He slowly laced his boots up and stood as he zipped up his jacket again.  

“You’re my friend, and I love you, Mallory, but I’ll kill both of you if you come back,” Maggie warned softly.  “I’ll have to, so please don’t make me do that.”

With tears in her eyes, Mallory slowly stood and stepped outside of the cell.  Maggie shoved a backpack in her arms.

“Supplies.”

Mallory didn’t have time to thank her, for Negan walked past her and strode to the door. He cautiously peeked outside, and satisfied that it was safe, stepped out and disappeared into the darkness.

“Go,” Maggie choked out. Both women were crying openly as Mallory made her way out into the darkness, following behind Negan as best as she could.

 


	13. Chapter 13

“Won’t be much longer,” Negan mumbled under his breath.   Those were the only words he’d spoken to her in the past few hours, ever since they’d left Alexandria in the early hours of dawn.  As it were, she had no idea what time it was, for she couldn't see the sun through the clouds.  

Mallory said nothing as she obediently followed along behind him. The rain was coming down harder, drenching her, and she was shivering to her bones. She hoped that wherever they were going at least had a roof.

It seemed like forever before they stepped off the small path and into a clearing.  At the far side of the clearing was an old cabin, long abandoned.  It sat along the edge of a lake, with the water being surrounded by a fence along the back side.  It provided the perfect area for shelter, as no walkers or humans would be able to get to it except for by the water, or over the fence.  The bushes were grown up around the small building, and she shuddered to think what might be lurking inside.  Still, if one was trying to hide, it was perfect; it looked long deserted .

Imagine her surprise when Negan opened the door and she found it relatively clean.

“It’s one of our safe houses,” Negan answered her unspoken question. He walked around the room, and poked in a few boxes before finding what he was looking for: a 9mm with a full cartridge.  He shoved the gun down the back of his pants before turning to Mallory.

“Get some sleep. We’ll move in a few hours.”

Again, Mallory was silent, and she obediently took the blanket Negan shoved her way.  Like a drowned rat, she made her way over to the small cot in the far corner and sat down.  Her teeth were chattering in her head, and she feared she would never warm up.  It wasn’t cold outside, but the wetness, the fear of being caught again, and the turmoil around Negan…it was all too much.

“Take off your boots and socks so they can dry out,” Negan ordered her.  He was standing against the far wall, tucked away in the shadows.  Mallory did as he asked, and removed her jacket as well; she would just have to deal with her wet jeans and shirt until they could change.  Gingerly laying down on the cot, she watched Negan from under her eyelashes until she fell asleep amidst the rumble of thunder and cracks of lightening.

* * *

   
Since it was still raining, Negan had decided that they would stay for the following night in the cabin - at least until he could figure out what to do.  They hadn’t spoken to each other, and Negan seemed to disappear throughout the day.  He returned just before nightfall again, and brought in some military rations.  He tossed a box at Mallory’s feet.

“Eat.  Once it stops fucking raining, we’ll move again.”

Negan walked around the cabin once more, ensuring that the doors were barricaded enough, before finally moving back to the far side of the cabin.  He slunk down, his back sliding along the wall as he did so.  Once seated, he rested his hands on his knees and dropped his head back against the wall.  His eyes closed wearily. The rain was falling softly and steadily, drowning out the world beyond their door.  Unable to help herself, she started to walk over to Negan, but ultimately decided against it.   She knew he didn’t want her anymore, not after what had happened with Rick.

She sat in the only chair, wincing as the loud groaning of old wood filled the too-quiet room.  She wrapped the blanket around herself, doing her best to not make any unnecessary noise.

“You should go back to them,” Negan’s deep voice broke the deafening silence.

“I can’t go back.”

“Sure you can. You’re fuckin’ one of ‘em now, aren’t ya?” Negan sneered.  His double entredre was not lost on her, and Mallory furiously met his gaze head on, but was not prepared for the hatred she saw in his deep brown eyes.   She faltered, and looked back down at her dirty fingernails.

“I’m sorry, Negan.  I did what I had to do at the time. I didn’t know what else to do, okay?” Mallory sniffled as the tears started anew.  She wanted to try to convince him that there was nothing between her and Rick, but she knew it was futile;  he didn't care to hear anything she had to say.  She wiped at her face, but knew it was no use; she was filthy, with no hope of getting clean anytime soon.  She hated being dirty more than anything.  She chuckled to herself, her grip on reality slipping just a little bit more as she saw the grime etched in the lines of her hands and under her fingernails. _Of all the things to be worried about now, needing a shower should be low on her list..._

“Maybe you could have stayed and talked to me. I don't fucking know,” Negan growled as he stood up.  He walked over to Mallory and stood over her, and she could see that he was shaking with fury. “Maybe you should have tried with me before you ran to him.   _You_ left _me_ , Mal.”

She stared up at him, mouth agape, as words failed her.  Negan was not the kind of guy that you would have a conversation with; you didn't discuss feelings with him, although he had his tender moments.   He just wasn't a talker, especially not about his feelings.  

Before she could respond, Negan grabbed his pistol off the table and walked out into the night yet again, leaving Mallory alone to suffer in silence.

She didn’t know how long she waited; her watch was busted from earlier, and the day/night just seemed to drag on.  She made her way back over to the cot and laid down, not knowing what else to do.   Eventually she cried herself to sleep, a pitiful mess of dirt, and blood, and even more so…a broken spirit and heart.  

 


	14. Chapter 14

Negan sat across from her in the chair, watching Mallory as she slept.  It had taken every bit of self-control he had to not pull her into his arms the moment he saw her, but he did not trust himself around her.  He was beyond furious, and the hurt piled on top of it made him doubt his self-restraint.  While he knew he would never intentionally hurt Mallory, he also knew he was too damn angry to have her near him.   Just the fact that he'd put his hands around her neck back in Alexandria had scared the shit out of him.  

With a sigh, he stood up and walked back over to his earlier spot and sat back down.  He curled up into an uncomfortable position and attempted to get some sleep.

* * *

 

A few hours later, Mallory awoke with a start.  She sat up, her eyes wide as she listened for unusual noises.  She waited a few moments, but didn’t hear anything other than the soft pitter patter of rain that was still falling, and let out the breath she’d been holding.  She looked back over to the far corner of the cabin and saw Negan, his head leaned against the wall as he slept, and her heart broke.  

He was a mere shell of the man he once was, his body ravaged by not only the Alexandria group, but also by her actions.  He was much too thin, and his face was heavy with an unkempt beard.  Even in the dim moonlight, she could see the lines on his face had deepened, clear evidence of the stress he’d been under for the past few months.  Not to mention the blood stains on his white tee-shirt, and numerous cuts and bruises on his body from the beating.  She felt a wave of guilt wash over her at her actions.

It was because of her that they were in this situation. Negan and Rick would have eventually figured out some way to co-exist, if she would have just dealt with her shit in a better way.  Sighing, she lay back down, but could not go back to sleep.  Not only was her mind running around in circles, but she now had to go to the bathroom.

_Of all the fucking things to need in the middle of the night…_

Agitated, she kicked the blanket off her legs.  She hated going to the bathroom alone, and especially in the woods.  For so long, she’d either been with Negan at the compound, or with others in Alexandria, and hadn’t had to go out to the woods to do her business.  It was simply a trip to the bathroom down the hall.

Now, she had to venture out in the woods by herself, because she knew Negan wouldn’t help her anymore.

As quietly as possible, she slid into her still-wet boots and grabbed a flashlight and a knife, and made her way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Negan’s sleepy voice called to her. She could hear the annoyance in his tone.

“I…I need to go to the bathroom,” Mallory whispered.  Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment.

“Alone? You hate that,” Negan remarked casually. He stood up, and grabbed the pistol off the table and shoved it in the waist of his jeans. “You can’t go out there alone, so come on.”

He walked over to the door and waited for Mallory to exit before he did.  He took her around to the back of the building, and ensured that it was safe before giving her enough privacy to do what she needed to do.  A few moments later, Mallory reappeared at his side.

“You good?” Negan asked as he ushered her back into the small cabin.  He closed and locked the door behind them, ensuring that the small table was pushed back up against the door to jam it.  He quickly kicked off his boots again, and pulled his socks off.   Mallory watched him surreptitiously as he pulled his wet shirt off and hung it over the back of one of the empty chairs.  His back was bruised, along with various cuts and marks up and down his side.  He was so damn thin, his ribs clearly evident, but she wanted nothing more than to feel his strong arms around her.  She ached to touch him, to soothe him, but she knew he wouldn’t let her come near.

_God, how she missed his touch…_

When he pulled his jeans off, she had to look away.  It felt wrong to be watching him like that, for whatever reason, and she looked back down at the floor as he finished undressing. 

“Mal?” Negan asked again.  He turned to face her, as he pulled a blanket from a box and wrapped it about his shoulders.  She was relieved to see that he had covered himself completely.  

“I am now, thank you,” Mallory replied, almost breathlessly.  She walked back over to the small cot and sat down.  She was restless, keenly aware of Negan in the room with her, and she knew sleep would evade her again.   He had walked back over to his spot and sat down once again, his head again dropped back against the wall.  

“There’s water in that jug if you need to clean up,” Negan quietly offered.  Mallory instantly perked up at hearing that, but did not move just yet.

“I got it earlier.  The lake is still pretty warm,” Negan answered her unspoken question.  He turned away from her, looking out the small window. The rain continued to fall, the darkness only occasionally lit up by the far-off flash of lightning.  “Help yourself. I won’t look.  Either way, you need to get those wet clothes off.”

“I think I will wash up if you don’t mind,” Mallory stood up and made her way to the 5 gallon jug that Negan had set near the empty fireplace. She wistfully thought how nice it would be if they could light the fire, but she knew that was not going to happen.

Not until they were safe.

With one last glance over at Negan to ensure he wasn’t looking, Mallory kicked off her boots again and began stripping.  She used the rag Negan had manufactured from an old sheet, and did her best to clean up.  While she knew she was far from clean, she felt immensely better after getting at least some of the grime off of her.  She wrapped the blanket around her, and moved to hang up her wet shirt and jeans somewhere; the back of on empty chair would have to do.  She was just grateful to get the wet clothes off, and she hoped they would dry quickly.  As she glanced back at him, she was shocked to find Negan walking towards her.  Before she could drop the rag she was still holding, he had taken her in his arms, holding her tight against his chest as his mouth hungrily found hers. The blanket fell to the ground around her feet, leaving her completely exposed to him.

He groaned against her when Mallory ran her hands up his arms and tangled them in his dirty hair.

“I need you,” he whispered against her lips.

Without speaking, Mallory kissed him back, her heart soaring at being in his arms after so long.

  

“I’m so fucking dirty,” Negan muttered as he pulled back to look down at her.  His thumb tenderly stroked along the edge of her lip, and Mallory boldly licked his fingertip with her tongue.  His nostrils flared at her gesture, and he leaned down and scooped her up into his arms.  He carried her to the front door, and Mallory frowned up at him as she tried to figure out what he was doing.

_Surely not…_

_Was he seriously going to take her outside, in the rain, while she was completely naked?!_


	15. Chapter 15

“Negan! What are you doing?” She screeched as he indeed carried her out into the rain, the cold droplets sending shivers up and down her body.  
She closed her eyes, sputtering indigently as he kept walking.  When he finally stopped, he let her slide down his body, and it was only when she felt the warm water of the lake at her feet that she realized what he was doing. He set her before him and stepped down into the water, just a little further. 

Mallory wrapped her arms around herself, and warily looked around the area before looking back up Negan.

“It’s safe, sweetheart,” Negan encouraged her gently.  He took her hand in his, and led her into the water with him.  He had taken her down to the end of the small lake, back around to where the fence lined the edge.  From here, they were safe from any wandering walkers, and with the rain falling gently, they were completely hidden from the rest of the world.  She still had no idea what time it might be, but she didn't care - all that mattered was Negan, and the feel of his hands on her skin, sliding over her curves in the warm water.  

“Kiss me, Mal,” he groaned against her lips as his hands found her bare hips.  His rough hands traveled up the sides of her stomach, coming up to cup her breasts for just a moment, before reaching around to her back to pull her closer again.  She trembled under his touch, wanting and needing him for so long.  When his lips found hers again, she kissed him back, delighting in the groans she was pulling from him as she ran her hands up and over his bare chest, and she shivered again as he pulled them farther out into the water.  His hands were at her knees as they sank lower, and she felt him pull her up around his waist, one leg on each side of his hips.  

Negan sank them down into the water, a mixture of warm water and cool night air that had her breaking out in goosebumps. They kissed for just a few moments more, but their need was greater, and Negan quickly entered her.   Mallory cried out at the fullness, her body stretching to accommodate him after so very long.  She wrapped her arms about his neck and held on, nipping and biting his lips as he helped her roll her hips against him. This, more than anything else in the world, was what she needed, what she had been craving for so long.  Negan quite literally completed her, and she sighed as her body gratefully accepted the fullness of him buried so deep inside her.

“It’s gonna be quick, baby,” Negan grunted against her lips.   Mallory said nothing, only tightened herself and her arms around him in encouragement; Negan began pounding into her all the more forcefully, his thrusts almost desperate as he struggled to find his release.  It wasn’t long after that they both exploded around each other, each one swallowing the other’s cries of fulfillment in an attempt to maintain silence.  When it was over, Negan moved them so that they were in shallower water, and he sat down, still holding Mallory against his chest.  They were both panting, both still trembling after coming together after so very long.

“I love you, Negan,” Mallory whispered against the base of his neck as she hugged him tight.  She would never, ever let him ago ever again. 

A flash of lightning lit up the sky, startling them both.

“We have to get out of this water,” Negan murmured against the top of her head.  He stood, carrying her with him, her legs still wrapped tightly around him as they made their way back to the cabin.  Once inside, Negan set Mallory down on the cot, and walked away from her.  Completely confused, Mallory sat in a stunned silence as she watched Negan pull his boxers back on before sitting back down in his spot against the far wall.  He did not look at her as he wrapped himself in his blanket.  

_What the hell had just happened?_

“Negan?” Mallory asked in confusion.

“Go to sleep, Mal,” Negan’s voice was cold again.

“But…I thought…” She started to rise, but sat back down when he spoke.

“It was just fucking.  Nothing more.”

Mallory’s strangled whimper broke Negan’s heart, but he held fast and did not go to her. He watched under hooded eyes as she lay down on the cot. He could tell by her jerky movements that she was crying, silently crying yet again as she huddled under her blanket all alone.  

He clenched his fists against his knees but did not go to her.


	16. Chapter 16

Just before dawn on the third day , Mallory woke up again to the sound of rain falling.  It was still dark outside, and the rain was still fucking falling.   _Would_ _it_ _ever_ _stop_ _fucking_ _raining?_   She was steadily growing more and more aggravated with being cooped up inside this small building.  With a scowl, she shivered in the early morning chill, and wrapped the blanket about herself more tightly.   As she rolled over, she saw Negan, his head tilted back and arms crossed over his chest as he slept in his usual position.  

It was almost as if last night never happened, that they’d not made love out in the lake.  She blinked back big fat tears as they threatened to roll down her cheeks again.  Was she really so stupid?

Negan had said it was just fucking, but she didn’t believe him.  He was so gentle with her, so he had to have felt something, if even just a little bit…

_Maybe after everything he still cared for her, maybe just a little?_

_Maybe?_

She was completely stupid…and she didn’t care anymore.

She had to go to him.

Nothing else mattered anymore except being close to him, and she had to take the chance. I f he rejected her, then so be it, but at least she knew she’d tried.  

_At least he would she had tried._

With her heart in her throat, she rolled off the cot and made her way over to him.  Without waiting for a welcome, she crawled onto his lap, and forced herself into his arms.  She felt him stiffen under her, but she did not move.  She wasn't sure if she was breathing or not, and when Negan finally wrapped his arms around her, she let out a soft cry as the tears overwhelmed her again.

_He was finally holding her._

She could feel his heart beating fast against her cheek, and she pressed herself against him just as close as she possibly could.  Her breasts were flattened against his bare chest, the contact immediately igniting a fierce fire within her that only he could ever quench.

“Mal-”

Mallory sat up, and kissed him, silencing any words of protest he had.  When he cupped her cheeks in his big hands and kissed her back, her heart swelled with happiness.  She rearranged herself so that she was straddling him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, ensuring that he wasn't going to let her go. The blanket fell off her shoulders, baring her naked body to him, and she purposely dragged herself up his front, making sure her breasts raked against his bare chest.  She was desperate for his touch, and he needed to know it.  He needed to know how much she wanted him.  

With a grunt, Negan turned and rolled them over, gently placing Mallory on top of her blanket. He leaned back and stared down at her, the conflict clearly written all over his beautiful face.

“Please,” Mallory whispered up at him.  Her fingers tugged at the hair at the back of his neck, and she pulled him down for another kiss. “Please love me again.”  She nuzzled him with her nose, her lips just skimming along the edge of his.

With a strangled groan, Negan lowered himself between her legs; physically and mentally giving himself over to the woman he loved.  As he sank inside her yet again, and felt her legs wrap around his waist, he couldn’t help but wonder if she would be his downfall…

…or his saving grace.


	17. Chapter 17

“Just let me have a look, please?”  Mallory complained as she urged Negan to roll over. Knowing it was a losing battle,  he finally relented and rolled over onto his stomach.  Mallory gasped at the angry red marks all over his back and sides. They weren’t near as bad as the ones on his face and chest, but they didn’t look good at all.

Rick and Daryl had their way with Negan, that was for damn sure, and try as she might, she couldn’t stop the anger that rose for those two men.   While she understood Rick's stance - and could sympathize with him even - she loved Negan and she never wanted to see him hurt so badly.  

She hopped up and grabbed the backpack of supplies, and silently thanked Maggie when she saw the antibacterial lotion, alcohol, and bandages, along with the bottle of antibiotics inside.  She knew how hard this must have been for Maggie to do this for her and Negan, and Mallory wondered if she’d ever be able to thank her for it.  She made her way back to Negan and sat down next to him.

“Are you done now?” he grumbled as he attempted to turn over.  Mallory pushed at his shoulder, forcing him back down.

“No. I haven't even started.  Be patient.” Her tone left no room for argument, and Negan grumpily rested his head on his folded arms.

“I’m fine, Mal.”

“No, actually you’re not. You’ve got quite a few open wounds still, and they look infected.”  She dabbed a bit of alcohol on the wounds, wincing as Negan hissed through his teeth. “Almost done…”

A few moments later, when she was satisfied with her work, she pushed Negan so that he would roll back over on his back.  She set to work on his front, cleaning him and bandaging where necessary.   Once he was cleaned up, it wasn't really that bad, save for the swelling and stuff.  When she was finished, she retrieved a bottle of water and gave him one of the pills from the bottle.  He stared at her as he drank the contents of the water bottle and swallowed the pill.

“Now are you done?” He dropped the bottle on the ground next to them and lifted his arm for her to crawl under.  Mallory happily lay down beside him, and rested her head against him. She was careful not to touch any of his wounds as her fingers idly traced through the salt and pepper hair on his chest.

“I’m done now, yes."

Relieved, Negan took a deep breath and wrapped his arm around her shoulder as he pulled her closer. 

“We have to leave tomorrow, babe.”

“Can’t we just stay here forever?” Mallory whined pathetically.  She felt Negan’s deep chuckle underneath her cheek, and she smiled to herself.  There was nowhere else in the world that she'd rather be at the moment. 

“I wish we could, but your friends will be coming for us soon enough.” His voice had taken on a hard edge yet again, and Mallory leaned up so that she could stare down at him.

“I hope you know I never wanted anything with Rick… _or_ _anyone_ _else_ _for_ _that_ _matter._ ”

Negan’s face gave away nothing, but Mallory could see that muscle ticking under that scruff that lined his jaw.  

“I feel like he was maybe developing feelings for me, but I never felt that way about him, Negan,” Mallory continued. “Please believe me.”

“Why did you leave me, sweetheart?” Negan’s voice was gruff, and Mallory felt the lump form in her throat at his sadness.

“I was dying inside, Negan.  After I lost…after…after that happened, I couldn’t stand to see the pain in you, and the only thing I knew to do was to leave.” She shrugged her shoulders helplessly.  “Morgan found me on the road and took me in.  I helped save Maggie that night, and she and I have been friends ever since.”

“Maggie was the wife of the Asian boy, wasn’t she?” Negan’s voice was full of regret.

“Yes.”

“if I could take that shit back, you know I would, Mal.” Negan swiped a hand over his face as he struggled to maintain his composure. “I was reacting to what was going on with us, and the guys knew I was slipping.  That fucker Dwight has been itching to take over, and all he needed was a moment of weakness on my part.  I couldn't show any mercy.  They would have killed you and me both, if Rick and his group didn't do it first.”

Mallory scooted up and cupped Negan’s cheeks in her hands as he stared into his eyes.  He had never looked more vulnerable, more unsure in all the time she'd known him.  

“I know you regret what happened, and I have talked to Maggie about it.  It doesn’t change what happened, but she understands why you did it.” She kissed him tenderly, being careful to avoid the broken skin on his lips.

“You know I don’t deserve you, right?” Negan whispered against her lips.

“Yes you do, and then some,” Mallory argued back as she crawled over him again.  Negan lay back, his arms crossed under his head as he stared up at her. He had that smirk on his face that she loved and missed so much, that cocky, arrogant smirk of his that let her know just who's woman she was.  

_Two could play that game…_

 With an exaggerated stretch, Mallory lifted herself off of him, earning a grunt of disapproval, but it was quickly replaced with a strangled moan as she pressed her lips against his chest ever so lightly.  She delicately licked around one already-hard nipple, grinning as she did so.  His chest was the most sensitive part of his body, and she knew kissing him there drove him absolutely insane with need.

“I have to be really careful with you,” she murmured as she licked the dark areola around his nipple, being sure not to touch that pebbled bundle of nerves.  

“No, really, you fucking _don’t,_ ” Negan gruffly countered as he gripped the back of her head and tried to pull her to him.  Mallory wiggled out of his grasp and continued on.

“Such a dirty mouth, you have.”  She licked a strip up his sternum, delighting as his chest hairs glistened with the moisture from her mouth.  She planted a hand on either side of his head as she made her way up his neck, dropping little kisses and licks along the way,  and she made sure her bare breasts rubbed against his chest as she did so.  Below her, Negan groaned and squirmed restlessly as she ran her tongue along his collarbone.  

“It’s been too long, sweetheart,” Negan grumbled again as he tried to pull her down to him.  

Once again, Mallory wiggled out of his grasp, and this time made her way down his body.  She seated herself on his thighs, and couldn’t control the wetness pooling between her legs as she stared at the bulge in his boxers.  With shaky fingers, she reached up and pulled the waistband down, revealing his rock-hard length.   When her fingers closed around him, Negan hissed between his teeth.

“God fucking damnit!” Negan bucked his hips as Mallory ran her fingers up and down his length, pulling and massaging him into an even harder state.

“A dirty, dirty mouth,” Mallory whispered as she leaned down to take him into her mouth.  Negan nearly unseated her as he jerked upwards, his whole body tensing at the feeling of her small mouth wrapped so tightly around him.

Mallory ran her tongue around the head of his cock, delighting in the small grunts and hisses that were escaping him.  She always loved his body, and the way she could turn him inside out, and even after all this time apart, it was like coming home.   She knew where to touch him, where to rake her nails across to get him riled up even further.  She reached down and cupped his balls, her eyes glinting with womanly pride as his stomach muscles bunched and tensed beneath her.   He was such a powerful, strong man,  but she was completely in control when she had him under her.  They both knew this.

Negan reached down and grabbed at her hair, his fingers tight in her hair as he tugged at her. 

“Babe, please…” he rasped, “let me feel you.  Please.”  He tugged again at her hair, urging her up, and Mallory conceded.  

With one last lick, she released him and crawled back up his body.  Negan sat up and pulled her onto his lap.   It was no time before he’d maneuvered her so that she was sliding down on his cock, eye level and nose to nose as she seated herself on top of him.

Negan gently cupped her cheeks as he stared into her eyes.

“I love you, Mal,” he kissed her tenderly as he rolled his hips into her. 

“And I love you,” Mallory whispered back. God he felt so good!  She was so snug against him, so close, and she felt as if he were touching every part of her body, both inside and out.   She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, giving him access to her chest.

Negan’s hands traveled down over her collarbone, but his fingers came back to trace the faint bruises on her neck from his angry hand.  He still couldn’t believe he’d done that, and he would never, ever forgive himself for it.  He leaned forward, and kissed her there, his eyes filling with tears at his actions. Mallory felt the wetness, heard his anguished breath, and felt the change in posture, and pulled back to stare down at him in confusion.  Her brows drew together, but her own eyes filled with tears when she realized what he was doing.  She grabbed his hands with both of hers, and pulled them up to her lips for a kiss.

 _Would_ _this_ _man_ _ever_ _understand_ _how_ _much_ _she_ _loved_ _him?_

“I love you, Negan,” she whispered again. “All of you, the good, the bad, and everything in between, okay?”

“But…I…” His eyes traveled back down to the bruises.

“It’s done, okay?” Mallory pushed his hands down so that they rested at her hips, and she slowly rolled herself against him, forcing him to feel her.  Her lips found his again as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s done, and I love you, and you love me, and that’s all that matters, okay?”

He leaned back to look up at her, his beautiful brown eyes still wet with unshed tears.  He reached up and cupped her cheek, tracing a thumb along her bottom lip.

“I don’t deserve you. I know I’ve said it before, but I don’t,” he whispered sadly.  "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."  

Mallory rubbed her nose against his thumb before gently biting the tip of his finger with her teeth.   She saw the spark flare back to life in his eyes.  

“You can start by making love to me,” she grinned as her tongue came out to lick at the spot on his finger that she’d just bitten.  Negan’s jaw hardened while his cock twitched inside of her, and she moaned in delight.  He grunted as he gathered her in his strong arms, and pulled her to his chest as he began thrusting up into her.  

Long and short, soft and steady, they made love again as the rain continued to fall outside their tiny cabin….

 


	18. Chapter 18

  
“We should go to Texas,” Mallory murmured as she traced lazy patterns across Negan’s chest.  Her fingers twisted in the salt and pepper hair there, occasionally pulling and twirling it about.  

“Texas?” Negan pulled the blanket up over them. “What’s in Texas?”

“Us, maybe,” Mallory giggled as she hugged him tight. “I don’t know, just sounds cool, you know?”

“You know we’re in a fucking zombie apocolypse, right?” Negan chuckled underneath her.  “This is not some family vacation that we’d be going on.”

Mallory leaned up and stared at him, a mock frown on her face.  His eyebrows rose as he stared back, all scruff and innocence. 

“Yes, I’m fully aware that we are in hell, Negan.”

“Well, then-”

Negan stopped talking, and Mallory tensed when they heard the footsteps on the wooden steps outside.  The loud knock that followed had them both scrambling for clothes and guns.

“Get dressed and lay down over there!” Negan pointed at the far wall as he zipped up his jeans.  He picked up the 9mm and checked it, before slowly making his way over to the curtain off the front door.  He pulled it back just slightly, and quickly shut it.

“It’s fucking Dixon,” he hissed over to Mallory.

“I know y’all are in there!” Daryl called from the other side of the door. “Open up!”

Mallory crawled out of her spot and stood, adjusting her hair and shirt as she made her way over to the door.  Negan shook his head at her, his jaw angrily tensed as his finger pointed at her to get back to where she was.  

“Daryl?” Mallory called out loudly.  She ignored Negan as she stepped closer to the door.  “What do you want?”

“It’s Rick!” Daryl hollered back. “I need your help.  He needs your help.”

“Mallory, no!” Negan whispered furiously as Mallory made for the door knob. “He’s lying!”

“What happened?” Mallory yelled again.

“That bastard you’re with…his people attacked Alexandria, and Rick got shot.” Daryl’s tone had taken on an angry edge, and Mallory looked over at Negan for answers.  Negan shrugged his shoulders.

“I didn’t order any kind of attack,” Negan whispered to her.  Mallory narrowed her eyes at him and placed her hands on her hips, and Negan felt his anger rise at the unspoken accuastaion.

“I fucking didn’t do it, Mal,” Negan stood up straight and glared right back at her.  He reached over and grabbed a button-up shirt and pulled it on before taking his spot by the door again. 

“I have Negan in here with me,” Mallory began. “Are you gonna try to hurt him?”

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right?” Negan growled.   Mallory shushed him with her own pointed finger.

“Daryl!  Do I have your word you won’t hurt him?  He didn’t know about the attack.  He’s been with me the whole time.” Mallory waited, hands on hips as she glared at Negan and then back at the door and then back at him again.

 _“Daryl_ _Dixon!”_ Mallory yelled in exasperation.

“I won’t hurt him,” Daryl called out, albeit begrudingly.

With another pointed finger in Negan’s direction, Mallory made her way over to the door and removed the table that was barricading them in. She slowly opened it, and peeked outside.  Daryl had his crossbow at the ready, and she glared at him until he lowered it.  His eyes searched over her head, looking around for Negan.

“Where’s that son of a bitch at?” Daryl muttered.   Before Mallory could answer, Negan stepped out from behind the door, his 9mm pointed at Daryl’s head. Daryl immediately lifted his crossbow and pointed it back at Negan, slowly stepping off the small porch and out into the yard.   The two men held fast, one with a crossbow, and one with a gun.  It was deadly quiet, the only sound that of the sporadic rain drops and occasional chirps of birds.  

     

 

“I don’t wanna kill you, Dixon,” Negan began as he stepped further out on the porch, his gun still at the ready. 

“Well, I wanna kill you,” Daryl muttered again as he lifted the crossbow higher. “Hell, yeah I do!”

Seeing the standoff, Mallory ran out into the yard, putting herself in between both men.

“Please stop, okay?” She looked between them both.  Her heart was pounding in her chest as she waited for someone to lower their weapon.

“Look, I know bad stuff has happened, on both sides, but this has to stop, okay?” Mallory pleaded.

“Yeah, well, tell your boyfriend that!  His people are the ones that attacked us!”

“I didn’t know they were going to do that,” Negan offered quietly.  Negan, the bigger of the two men, slowly lowered his gun. “I didn't know, but I’m pretty fucking sure I know who fucking did it.”

Mallory let out the breath she was holding when Daryl finally lowered his weapon as well.

“It was fucking Dwight,” Negan stated. “That motherfucking fucker has been looking for a reason, and with me gone, he’s acting like some goddamned Roman emperor trying to take over the world and shit!”  Negan pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers as he tried to figure out what to do next.   _Motherfucking_ _fuck!_

“What’s wrong with Rick?” Mallory asked as she turned back to Daryl.  She could care less about Dwight...

“Shot.  In the shoulder.  We tried to get the bullet out, but we can’t. Denise…Denise was shot, and she’s out of it.” Daryl looked down at his boots. “Don’t know if she’s gonna make it.”  He looked back up, his eyes pleading with her.

“We need your help, Mallory.” Daryl looked from Mallory to Negan, and back to Mallory again. “I don’t know who else to go to.”

“I’m going.” Mallory turned and walked back to the cabin, with Negan fast on her heels.    Once inside, he slammed the door, shutting Daryl out.  

“You can’t do this, Mal!” Negan grabbed her about her shoulders and spun her around to face him.  On his face she saw terror, and she swallowed the lump of fear that had risen in her throat.  “You can’t go back! They’ll kill you, or Dwight and the rest of those fuckers will!”

“I have to go, Negan. They took me in, saved my life. I have to return the favor, okay?” She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. “We have to end this, and somehow manage to get along.”

“Yeah, and what if you don’t come back?” Negan gritted out angrily. “What then?”

“Everything will be fine, okay? I’ll come back.” Mallory plastered her best brave smile on, hoping to alleviate some of his fears.  Inside, she was quaking with fear over what she was doing. She knew the risks, and she knew that a multitude of bad things could happen to her, one of which was dying.  

She knew this.

“I thought you said you’d never leave me again?”  Negan dropped his hands from her shoulders and walked away from her, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat as he stared out the window. His pistol rested at his side, seemingly as defeated as he was.  

 

  

Mallory felt her heart clench in her chest at his words and actions, but she knew she had to go.   She had to try to patch things up between them;  if she and Negan were ever going to make a go of it, she had to do her part to make amends.

“I’m not leaving you, Negan.  I’m going to help. I’m going to try to right some of this wrong between the two groups, okay?”

“Mallory!” Daryl called from outside. “We need to go before it gets dark!”

Hearing Daryl start up the truck he came in, Mallory walked over to Negan and reached up, pulling him down for a reluctant kiss.  He was stiff in her arms, refusing to hug her back, and she felt it deep in her bones.   

“I love you, and only you.  I’m not leaving you, and I will come back, okay?” She pressed her nose to the center of his chest, inhaling the scent that was Negan, and tried to commit it to memory.

_She hoped she was making the right decision…_


	19. Chapter 19

As Mallory and Daryl made their way back to Alexandria, there was an uncomfortable silence that Mallory just couldn't take anymore.  She knew Daryl could sit his stubborn ass in that drivers seat and not say a word, but Mallory just couldn’t do it.

“Well?” She turned in her seat to stare at him.

Daryl merely snorted in response.  That annoying snorting thing that Daryl was so good at.  

“Don’t do that shit to me, Daryl Dixon! Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“What am I thinking?  You wanna know what I’m thinking?” Daryl shot an annoyed glance over at Mallory as he snorted again. 

“Yes. That’s why I asked.”

“I think you’re crazy for being with that psychopath asshole, and I think I need to kill him.” Daryl’s voice was flat as he spoke.

“You don’t know our history, Daryl,” Mallory softly replied. “You don’t know his history, either. This zombie stuff has made good people do bad things.”

“Nah, actually I do. Maggie told me everything. How do ya think I knew where to start tracking y’all?” Daryl turned off onto the street that led to Alexandria. “Still don’t change the fact that I wanna kill him.”

“So why didn’t you?” Mallory asked bluntly.

“Because we have to stop all this shit, Mallory.” Daryl turned down another street, driving much more slowly this time as he surveyed the area outside the gates.  Damn walkers were everywhere still, and he just barely managed to maneuver the truck around one of them. “Even I know that. Rick knows that, too. We can’t keep killing everyone.”

He pulled the truck up to the gate and waited for just a moment, the truck idling.   A long-decayed walker pressed its face against the window, an ever-constant reminder of the world outside the gates.  

“Negan and I are going to leave, Daryl. Once I help Rick, we’re leaving, so you’ll never have to worry about us again.”

Daryl looked over at her, a dubious glint in his eyes.

“I thought we didn’t have to worry about him anymore, Mallory?  Ain’t that what you’ve been saying all along?”  He pulled out a cigarette and popped it in-between his lips.    The walker continued to slobber against the glass.  

“Yes..I just…” Mallory hedged uncomfortably, but thankfully she was given a reprieve.  The gate guards had flashed the light, indicating the gate would soon be open.  

The conversation about Negan could be had another day.  

Maybe she'd even have answers then...


	20. Chapter 20

Negan tucked the 9mm into the back of his pants, and reached over and grabbed the rifle from under the cot where it had been hidden. He checked the magazine, ensuring there were plenty of rounds, and stepped outside the cabin.  His eyes followed the tracks that Daryl’s truck had made, and he felt his heart speed up a bit at the fact that Mallory was gone again.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled as he stepped off the porch.  He slowly made his way through the forest, killing walkers as he came upon them, until finally he stood before the gates of The Sanctuary.   He knew the snipers on the wall had their weapons trained on him long before he could see them, and he raised his arms in a show of peace.

“Well, this is a nice fucking welcome back, isn’t it?” He called out to the guards. “Why don’t you fuckers open up the gate and let me the fuck back in?”

“Negan?” One of the guards yelled out.

“Who the fuck else would it be?  Does anyone else have the fucking balls to walk up to the front gate of The Sanctuary like this?  Now fucking open the goddamned fucking door!” Negan knew how dangerous this was, just walking up to the gate, but if he showed any hesitation at all, he’d be dead.   _He_ _knew_ _it surer than shit._

He let out a breath, when a few moments later, the gates rolled back, allowing him in.  He strolled in, much as he would any other day.  The two guards met him as he did so, and both had wide eyes as they hesitantly pointed their guns at him.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Negan grinned as he stared back, undaunted.

“Dw…Dwight’s in charge now,” the older of the two guards stuttered.  He started to shake as Negan stepped forward and placed his finger on the end of the rifle. He pushed the rifle away from him with a chuckle, back towards the guard’s chest. The man stumbled back a little.

“Is that so? I’m gone for a few days and everything goes to fucking shit, huh?” Negan looked around, before turning back to the two younger men.  “Where’s that fucker at now?”

“He’s in your…that’s to say he’s…well he’s,” the man stuttered again.

“He’s fucking _where_ exactly?” Negan stepped forward again as he glared down at the younger man, and then back at the older one. 

“Your room, sir.  He's in your room with the wives,” the younger of the two finally spoke, drawing Negan’s gaze back to him.

“Gimme that fucking rifle,” Negan barked as he snatched the weapon out of the younger man’s hand. He checked the cartridge, and made sure it was ready to go once he needed it.  He turned his gaze back on the two men. “I’m back, and I’m in fucking charge.  Follow me.”

* * *

 

  
“Come on, Amber,” Dwight pleaded as he struggled against the restraints on his hands. “You know I hate this blindfold shit!”

“Hush, baby,” Amber purred as she crawled off the bed. “You love it.” She walked over to the dresser and grabbed the oil, only stopping to turn up the music a bit louder before making her way back to the bed.  She crawled back over Dwight’s body, dropping a line of oil up his abdomen as the sounds of Led Zeppelin fill the room.

“Finally,” he moaned as he squirmed underneath her touch.

“I told you I was gonna do you good, baby,” Amber giggled again. She ran her oil slicked hands up his body, and was just about to reach his chest when a hand closed around her mouth, silencing her.  She tried to scream, but it was no use.  She felt herself being jerked off Dwight, and she flailed about as she tried to free herself from her would-be attacker.  

“Amber?” Dwight mumbled as he turned his head from side to side; he'd felt the loss of her body heat.  The music abruptly stopped, and Dwight began to panic against his restraints.  

“Who’s there?!  Amber? _Goddamnit!_ ”

“Sucks, don’t it?  The moment you realize you ain’t shit.”

Dwight felt his blood run cold at that familiar, gravelly voice. _It_ _just_ _couldn’t_ _be,_ _could_ _it?_

“Ne..Negan?” Dwight stuttered.  His terror was made worse by the damn blindfold that still covered his eyes, preventing him from seeing anything but blackness.  

His stomach dropped when he felt what he knew was Lucille being dragged up his bare leg, the sharp edges of the barbed wired catching on skin and hair painfully.

“Well you _were_ happy to see me, but now you’ve gone all limp-dick on me,” Negan casually replied as he dragged Lucille over Dwight’s stomach.  “Imagine my surprise when I come back to _my_ fucking room, and find you in _my_ fucking bed, fucking one of these fucking girls.” Negan dropped Lucille against Dwight’s chest with a thud, making the blonde man tense in pain.

“Negan, look, I’m sorry, okay? I thought you were dead, boss!  Somebody had to take over, right?” Dwight pleaded his case as his body trembled. “When you were taken by Daryl, we thought for sure you’d be killed!”

The weight of Lucille was lifted off his chest, and Dwight blinked up in the bright light as Negan pulled off the blindfold. The older man’s brown eyes met Dwight’s terrified blue ones.  Negan smiled that signature smile of his, that charming, terrifying grin of his.  

   

“So, let me get this fucking straight.  You knew I was taken to Alexandria, and you did shit about it?” Negan rose up to his full height, and walked back around the bed.  Dwight’s panicked eyes followed him.

“Boss, please!” Dwight jerked against the restraints again.

“You didn’t come after me, but you went after Alexandria on your own, is that fucking right?” Negan cocked his head to the side as he stared down at Dwight.   Negan turned back to stare at the two men behind him, grinning as he did so. “Does that make any fucking sense to you, Willie? Terrence?”

“No, sir!” Terrence replied as he gripped the struggling Amber tighter against his chest.  Willie nodded his head in agreement.

“Terrence, you little bitch!” Dwight seethed as he struggled again. “I knew I couldn’t trust you for shit!”

“So what was the point in attacking Alexandria?” Negan asked as he walked back around the bed.  He dropped Lucille on Dwight’s foot, painfully embedding the barbs in the man’s skin. “You didn’t really think a gutless little shit like you could kill Rick _fucking_ Grimes, did you?”

“Just kill me now!” Dwight spat as he glared up at Negan.

“In my bed?  I don’t fucking think so.  As it is, I’m gonna need a new fucking mattress,” Negan sighed regretfully. “I was just starting to like this one. Fucking shame.”

He walked back over to where Amber was being held, and looked a her in disgust.   Amber glared back up at him.

“Get her out of her,” Negan ordered Terrence. The younger man dragged a screeching Amber out into the hallway. When they were gone, Negan turned back to Dwight.

“Now to deal with your stupid fucking ass…”

* * *

  

Negan walked along the line of men, Lucille placed firmly on his shoulder as he paced.  Once again he was the politician;  only this time, it was for an entirely different reason.  Even he didn't fully believe the shit that was about to come out of his mouth, but he knew it needed to happen.   If he ever wanted to see change, he knew it had to start with him. 

“Aren’t you all tired of fucking fighting every damn day? Didn’t we have a deal worked out with the Alexandria group?”

Rumblings from the crowd, some in agreement, some in disagreement, rose up in the night.

“They killed Kenny and Frank!” someone called from the crowd.

“Of fucking course they did,” Negan countered, his hand clutched to his chest for emphasis. “This fucking dipshit here had you attack them.” Negan turned his ire back over to Dwight.  The blonde man trembled as he knelt before the group on his knees.

 

“Surely you didn’t think they were gonna just sit there and take it, did you?  Didn’t we have peace, for the most part?” Negan began again as he looked around at his men. It was taking everything in him to not cuss them all the fuck out, but he knew he had to win their trust again.  It was barely hanging on by a thread as it was, even though he’d been told that Dwight was destroying everything they’d all worked for. That stupid fuck had tried to rule like he was some kind of goddamned king, and the Saviors were none too happy.

However, their dislike of Dwight wouldn't make it any easier for Negan to convince them to follow him again, and he knew this.   He knew about half the men would follow him to their death - no questions asked - but there were some who still doubted him.   _And_ _rightly_ _so_ , he could admit that.  He knew he needed to make some changes if he ever wanted to be seen as a leader again.  

A newer man, Stephen, stepped forward, drawing Negan’s eyes to him.

“My sister was at the Hilltop,” Stephen began angrily.  His fists clenched at his side as he glared at Dwight.  Dwight shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

“Stephen, right?” Negan asked. “What happened to your sister?”

“That motherfucker,” Stephen pointed at Dwight, “told the men to take some of the women from the Hilltop. One of them was my sister,” Stephen bit out from clenched teeth as his chest heaved in anger. Negan felt his blood run cold as he began trying to put the pieces together.

“She’s here, locked up with all the other wives,” Stephen continued angrily. The man’s eyes glossed over with tears, hot and furious as he stared at Dwight.

“Did any of y’all touch Stephen’s sister?” Negan asked, looking from side to side as he scanned the row of men before him.  He did not put up with rape, and he would not have pity on these men if they had been involved in the rape of any women, man, or child.  He drew a hard line there. 

 _“Only_ _him_.  He was the only one _allowed_ to touch any of the wives,” Stephen answered for everyone.  Dwight blanched a little more under the weight of all the angry stares pointed in his direction.

Without a word, Negan walked over to Stephen and handed him Lucille.  The younger man gripped the baseball bat tightly, and headed for Dwight.

* * *

 

 

A few hours later, after the mess that had been Dwight was cleaned up, Negan and the Saviors had come to a few agreements amongst themselves.  Negan was relieved to find out that Dwight had been the only real defector, and most everyone was unhappy with his short-term reign of terror.

They all happily reinstated Negan as the leader of The Saviors...but under a few conditions.  

A multitude of things would change, actually.  There would be no more wives; the men and women could mingle as they saw fit, and as long as no one was raping anyone or beating the shit out of each other, things would be good.  Everyone was going to be considered equal - men and women.  Everyone would take part in the day to day activities, including supply runs and guarding the compound.  All would pull equal weight.  The compound would begin functioning much like Alexandria, and while Negan would continue to lead, it would be less… _bloody_.  No more killing to prove points; from now on, diplomacy would be the first line of defense.

_Killing would the last resort._

Feeling at peace with his decision, Negan leaned over the hood of his jeep, staring into the fire as he thought about Mallory.  He wondered if she was okay, and while everything in him was telling him to go after her,  he knew he had to let her do this on her own.   If she came back to him, it would be more than he deserved.  He just had to wait and be hopeful.  His lips turned up at the corners when he thought about how proud she would be of him, what with all the changes implemented. There was nothing more in this world that he wanted than to see that smile on her face again, and he could only hope that she would be proud of him. 

“Thank you, sir,” a small voice called to him from the shadows.

Negan turned around, and saw Stephen step out of the shadows. There was a girl with him - not more than 15 or 16 years old he’d guess - tucked at his side.  It was her voice that he’d heard, soft and sweet, and unfit for such a world as this.  

“Boss, this is my sister, Natalie,” Stephen offered quietly. The diminutive blonde stared up at him, her big blue eyes sunken in her heart-shaped face.

“Hello, Natalie,” Negan offered his hand to her.  She took his large one in her much smaller one, and she trembled the entire time.  

She still had that air of innocence about her, but the look of one that had seen far too much at such a young age.  How he wished Mallory was here to take this girl under her wing; this girl could be his daughter, for fucks sake!  Again, he felt he fury rise deep inside at Dwight’s actions, but he took pleasure in knowing that the son-of-a-bitch had received his just punishment at the hands of Natalie’s brother.  At least that piece shit wouldn't be hurting anyone else.  He released Natalie's hand, and she shyly tucked it back against her brother's side.  

“You’ll be safe from now on, Natalie,” Negan smiled down at her, before looking up at Stephen. “You see to it that she’s taken care of, Stephen.  Find a room, and you two can share if you’d like.  Or get her a room of her own.”

“Yes, sir. I appreciate it,” Stephen held out his hand to shake Negan’s, before he and Natalie made their way back to the compound.  Negan turned his attention back to the fire, his thoughts going once again to Mallory.

Everything seemed to be righting itself here at the compound.

He just wondered how Mallory was fairing in Alexandria...


	21. Chapter 21

“Maggie?” Rick groused as he finally woke up. He squinted up at the person beside him, trying to make out who it was.

“Nope. It’s Mallory.” She pushed him back down against the pillows. “Lay back. You’ll rip your stitches out.”

“I told you I didn’t want you here,” Rick grumbled even as he followed her order and lay back down.  He winced as the pain in his shoulder radiated down his chest and arms.  

“Well too bad. I’m the only one that could save your life, not to mention Denise and Heath,” Mallory retorted angrily.  She’d had about enough of Rick Grimes’s bullshit to last her a lifetime. He’d been nothing but a pain in her ass since she started working on him 3 days ago. _Ungrateful_ _ass!_

“Shouldn’t you be with Negan?” Rick sneered as he cut his eyes up at her.

“I would, but I’m here with you, trying to save your damned hand and arm!”

"Well, you can leave now," Rick muttered under his breath.  

Furious, Mallory dropped her rag and stood, angrily swiping at her face as she made her way outside and onto the porch.  She sucked in a deep breath of air, trying to calm her nerves and tamp down her anger at Rick's hateful words. 

“He don’t mean nothin' by it, Mallory.”

Mallory turned to find Daryl on the porch swing, one booted foot up on the rail as he lazily swung back and forth.

“Yeah? Well it sure feels like it!” Mallory wiped her wet cheeks again, furious at Rick, and furious at herself for crying so damn much.  All she wanted was to be back in Negan’s arms, yet here she was, tending to that unappreciative asshole Rick Grimes.

“You need to talk to him, ya' know?” Daryl got up and walked over to Mallory.  He bumped her with his shoulder, trying to lighten the moment. “Make him understand where your psychopath boyfriend comes from.”

Mallory rolled her eyes at Daryl.  He always did have such an eloquent way with words...

“Yes, you need to tell him, Mal,” Maggie had followed them out on to the porch. “Everything you told me about Negan, you need to tell Rick.”

Mallory lowered her head and sighed, knowing the uphill battle she was faced with.

“He killed my husband, Mallory,” Maggie quietly stated. “If I can forgive him, Rick can, too.  It’s the only way we can all live in this world.”

“Come on,” Daryl wrapped an arm around Mallory’s shoulder, and turned her back to the house. “Let’s get this shit over, okay?”

* * *

 

 

Mallory fiddled with the blanket at the edge of the bed, barely a foot away from a disapproving Rick Grimes.   She was sitting on the chair she had been occupying since she had started working on him.  All the things she’d confessed to him, all the prayers she’d spoken over him, all the things she swore she’d do if Rick would just open his damn eyes….

Now she was about to speak those confessions out loud, and she was terrified.  Completely and utterly terrified.  Her whole life and future rested on what Rick chose to believe, and what Rick chose to do from here on out.  She took a deep breath and started talking.

“Negan was a school coach, Rick.  He coached ping pong on the side, just trying to make a living, a regular person like me and you. He was married, and had a 6 year old daughter.” Mallory’s breath caught as wiped away an errant tear.

 _Already_ _she_ _was_ _crying,_ _dammit!!  Would she ever stop crying??_  

She felt so guilty telling Negan’s story, but she had to get Rick to understand how he came to be.   He was not always a monster.

Rick shifted against his pillows as he reluctantly listened to the woman at his side.  The scowl on his face had deepened at the mention of Negan’s name, and he really didn’t want Mallory here, but she had saved his life apparently.  At least he could hear her out.

“His wife, Amanda, was a teacher.  Kindergarten actually.” Mallory wiped at another tear. “She was 5 months pregnant with their son when the outbreak happened.”  The last part came out in a reverent whisper.

“Oh god,” Rick murmured more to himself than anyone.  He was smart enough to deduce where this story was going, and it turned his stomach as his thoughts turned to Judith and Lori.  

He reached out and grabbed Mallory’s hand in his good one, and clutched it tight, all differences set aside.

“They all came home after being told to evacuate. The plan was to stay locked up until it blew over. You know, the plan everyone had in the beginning? Just wait it out and all until help came?”

Rick waited in silence for Mallory to continue. 

Daryl peered out the window, his arms crossed over his chest as he, too, listened to the story.

Maggie quietly cried into baby Hershel’s hair as she hugged him tight.  She’d heard this story before, for the most part, and it still broke her heart.  Even as she hated Negan, she couldn’t imagine having to go through what he did.  It was no wonder he’d turned into the kind of man he had become.

Mallory took another deep, shuddering breath and continued.

“Negan’s daughter decided to go out into the backyard. She had rabbits, I think, and she wanted to check on them. It was one day when Negan had gone looking for supplies, so it was just his wife and daughter. Well ,his daughter got bitten by a neighbor or something,” Mallory’s eyes filled with a fresh wave of tears as she recounted Negan’s story. “When Negan finally came home,  his daughter was burning up with fever, the disease already taking over her small body. He told me he laid in bed with her, reading her books until she turned.”

Mallory felt nauseous as she remembered the way Negan had described his daughter's eyes becoming more and more cloudy as he’d held her in her final moments...

_“I was holding her, and I swear, her blue eyes turned grey. Right in front of me,  Mal, they turned gray. I knew my little girl was gone. In that moment, I knew I’d lost her, and that she was one of them…”_

__

Mallory shook her head, doing her best to rid herself of the image of Negan laying there, holding his daughter as she died in his arms. 

“My god, Mal,” Rick murmured again.  He vividly remembered what it was like to watch his friends and family turn, to see Jim burning up, and to see Sophia's milky-grey eyes staring at him as she came out of that barn.  It was in that moment that he began to feel something for Negan.  He wasn’t sure what it was just yet, and he was certain it wasn't forgiveness, but maybe it was pity?  Maybe it was empathy?   Maybe it was an understanding, an explanation for why it had been Glenn from the beginning.  It didn't make it right, but it made it more clear. 

“He tied her up to the bed, since he couldn’t bring himself to put her down. But then, Amanda - his wife - came in the room, and she was also burning up with the fever.” Mallory looked up at Rick, and shrugged her shoulders helplessly.  “She must have gotten bitten when she was saving their daughter, but she never told him. By then she was already gone, too.”

“Negan wasn’t a gun person, and the only thing he had was a wooden baseball bat that he’d bought a few weeks ago."  Mallory laughed to herself, a crazy giggle escaping her lips even as the tears continued to drip from her cheeks.

"Isn't that funny how the world works?  He and Amanda had an ultrasound, and found out they were having a boy, and he’d bought the baseball bat for his son, Rick.” Mallory bowed her head in a mixture of shame and despair at what came next in the story.  

“So he used the baseball bat on his wife and daughter… and unborn son,” Rick finished with a horrified whisper.  

Mallory nodded in agreement. 

“Amanda tried to attack him, and the closest thing he could find was the baseball bat.” A fresh wave of tears rolled down Mallory’s cheeks. “He said he killed them both, Rick, right there in his daughter’s room.”  Mallory looked up, her eyes swimming with tears, and she started sobbing uncontrollably, her entire body shaking as her nerves finally shattered into pieces.  Rick pulled her into his bare chest, doing his best to comfort her even as his shoulder screamed in agony.

“So you see, Rick? You can’t kill him! You see what he’s been through?  We were going to have a baby, and I was going to save him, and make it better, and then I lost our baby, but I can do it again, Rick!  I can fix him!” Mallory sobbed, great big shudders that wracked her body as she grieved for Negan, and Amanda, and his daughter, and finally both their unborn babies. _Why_ _did_ _this_ _world_ _have_ _to_ _be_ _so_ _cruel?_

“You did nothing wrong, Mallory!” Maggie sat down next to her friend on the bed. “We’ve all gone through stuff, and nobody can prevent it or stop it from happening.”

“You can’t kill him, Rick,” Mallory cried into RIck’s neck. “Please, he’s all I have left, and I’m all he has. Please…I can fix him...”

“We’ll figure something out, Mal,” Rick’s jaw ticked as he held Mallory close, his eyes meeting Daryl's over the top of her head.  Daryl shrugged his broad shoulders, and wordlessly left the room.  He disappeared into the darkness, leaving Rick, Mallory, and Maggie alone.  

Rick dropped his head back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what in the hell he was supposed to do...

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed a face claim for Stephen. This is what I came up with. Forgive me ;-)

Stephen made his way down the hall to Negan’s room.  In his hand, he carried a small, worn burlap bag.  Inside that bag was something he needed to deliver to Negan, and everyone else seemed scared to.  They'd all but flung the bag at him a few moments ago, and insisted that Stephen be the one to do it.  

Someone had to do it, and ever since Negan had taken care of his sister - _and_ _killed_ _that_ _bastard_ _Dwight_ \- he’d become in a way Negan’s right-hand man. He had Negan's back, no matter what.  He only hoped Negan would remember that when he brought _this_ bag to him.

Some of the men had speculated on who it had come from and what it contained, but Stephen couldn’t be sure, and the only way to find out was to give it to Negan himself.  Word traveled fast, and there had been some outrageously strange mumblings of walkers that seemed to talk and even carried knives, but Stephen knew that couldn't be true. _The_ _dead_ _were_ _dead_.   It was impossible, really, but he knew Negan would know what to do. 

At the end of the hall, he stopped before Negan’s office and knocked at the door.

“Come in,” Negan called from inside.  Stephen opened the door, and stepped inside, his eyes landing on Negan in the dim light of the room.  It may have been sunny outside, but in here, it was dark and gloomy, much like the leader himself.  

Negan looked haggard, his beard more grey than black, and his dark eyes were sunken against his sharp cheeks.  He seemed a mere skeleton of the strong man Stephen had met the first day he'd arrived at The Sanctuary. Lucille, the baseball bat covered in barbed wire, sat in the corner, both menacing and harmless - all at the same time.     Stephen knew from gossip that Negan’s woman had gone to the Alexandria group and had yet to return.  It had been almost 2 weeks now, and Negan’s moods grew increasingly unpredictable by the day as he waited.  The leader of The Saviors seemed to waver somewhere between explosive rage and utter depression; everyone steered clear nowadays, for no one knew what kind of mood you'd catch him in.  

   

“Yeah?” Negan looked up from what he was studying, his tone clipped with frustration.  Seeing it was Stephen, he looked back down again at the map before him.  HIs fingers traced along roads, and he marked a few spots with the red pen he was holding between his fingers.   

“I…uh…the guys at the gate…well...” Stephen shifted on his feet, and looked down at the bag before looking up at Negan. “This is supposed to be for you.”

Negan looked up, his mouth immediately setting in a hard line as his eyes traveled down to the bag in Stephen's hand. 

“What’s in the fucking bag?” Negan slowly stood, his eyes never leaving the bag.  He felt he air leave his lungs as a nausea-inducing sense of dread began roiling in his stomach.  His hand shook as he pointed at the bag.

“What’s in the fucking bag?” he slowly asked again, his voice barely above a whisper this time.

“I don’t know, boss,” Stephen answered truthfully.  He really had no idea.   “The guys at the gate said the person that delivered it made it clear it was only for your eyes.”

Negan swallowed hard, and ran a shaky hand over his face as he looked down at the bag again.  Surely it was too small for a head, right?

“Boss?” Stephen asked again.

“Put…put the bag down.  Put it down, okay?” Negan was shaking, but Stephen dutifully followed the order and set the bag down on the ground in the space between them.

“Do you want me to open it, Boss? See what’s inside?” Stephen offered quietly. He didn’t want to know what was in the burlap bag, but Negan had avenged his sister, and he would do anything for this man.  Besides, he’d never seen Negan so unnerved, and it was unnerving him to see his boss so on edge.  Stephen stepped forward, his hand headed for the bag, but Negan held up his own hand in resistance.

“No. Just leave me,” Negan whispered again, almost painfully, and Stephen's brows drew together at his boss.  

"Go."  Negan looked up, his dark eyes glinting as some of his former harshness returned, and Stephen swallowed whatever reply he was conjuring up.    

With a reluctant nod, Stephen did as he was asked and stepped outside the door, closing it behind him. He waited for just a few moments, his curiousity peaked, and his concern high for his boss.  When a few moments passed, and he heard nothing, he left and made his way back down the hallway and outside.  Once back out on the grounds, he squinted in the bright sunlight as his eyes searched for Carson.  Somebody needed to find out what the hell had happened at Alexandria and what the hell they needed to do to find this woman, Mallory.    

It was the least he could do after what Negan had done for his sister. 

   

* * *

 

Back inside, Negan stared at the bag for the longest, and it seemed like time stood still as he mentally debated on what to do. 

Mallory was still gone, and he’d not heard anything from Alexandria.  His scouts found nothing on their runs.  Not one damn peep on her whereabouts.

And now this bag had shown up on his doorstep, and he was about 100% sure that was blood dripping from the bottom of the bag and onto his office floor.  

He knelt down, and with shaking hands, untied the knot that held the bag closed. As he pealed the sides back, and revealed the contents, the bile that had been in the pit of his stomach pushed up, and he swallowed quickly in an effort to not throw up right away.  His skin broke out in a clammy sheen of sweat, and he blinked rapidly as his eyes watered.  

_He knew that hand with the freckle right near the base of the thumb._

_He knew those short, perfectly squared-off fingernails._

And he knew that simple gold band, the one that he’d struggled to find in that damn jewelry store for Mallory the day after he’d found out she was pregnant. That same gold band that she’d taken off and refused to wear after they’d lost their baby.  The same one that she’d just put back on the last time they made love in the cabin. He’d been wearing it around his neck, strung through a simple metal dog tag chain as he prayed to find her again. He’d been the one to slide it back over her finger that evening as she lay in his arms.

He knew that freckle, and those fingernails, and that gold band...

_...and he knew that hand that was no longer connected to that body._

Unable to help himself, he turned and vomited all over the floor as his worst nightmare began to come true.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is a slight deviation in the comics. Actually a lot of deviation. Sorry.

The room was spinning.

It was spinning, and it smelled, and it was dark.

Mallory forced her eyes open fully, and sucked in a deep breath as her stomach roiled against her actions. Her lips were cracked, and as she came to, she felt her head start throbbing.  She reached up to wipe a hand across her face, only to feel a sharp, burning pain as her bandaged wrist hit her cheek.  She pulled her hand down and stared at it, horrified at what she saw.  

Where her left hand had been was now nothing but dirty rags held together by what looked like duct tape.  A bloody mess of rags and duct tape. Mallory started shaking violently as the shock hit her, her eyes fluttering closed as she fainted again.

* * *

 

  
_“Get up, bitch!”_

She was being kicked.  Mallory lifted her hand to ward off the blows, only to scream in pain as the kicker’s foot connected with the end of her severed limb. She clutched her arm against her chest, trying to shield herself from more blows, when she was jerked up abruptly by her hair into a sitting position from someone behind her.  

“Please,” Mallory begged softly as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Please, don’t.”

“Funny, isn’t it?” a faceless voice called to her from the other side of the room. “You should ask for mercy when you showed none to Dwight and the rest of our people?”

“What? I don’t know…what…” Mallory whimpered through her tears as she struggled to focus on the voice.  She was shocked when a woman appeared before her, bald and almost ethereal in her look.

“I’m sure you know what happened,” the woman remarked with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.  She looked down at Mallory’s hand, head tilted to the side as she studied the wound. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” Mallory cried as she stared down at her mangled hand.

“Good.” The woman looked up, her blue eyes flashing as she glared at Mallory.  Mallory gasped out loud when Amber appeared at the woman’s side.  

“Glad to see me, huh?” Amber purred as she stepped forward.

“Shut up, Amber,” the other woman barked.  With a heated glance at Mallory, Amber stepped back silently.

“What do you want with me?” Mallory asked bluntly.  She was becoming resigned to her fate, especially now that Amber was here.  This was very, very bad.  

“Oh we don’t want you. We want Negan, and whoever else was involved in killing Dwight.” The bald woman stood up.  Mallory looked between the bald woman and Amber, still completely confused.   _Dwight_ _was_ _dead?_

“My name is Alpha. I’m the leader of our group, and Dwight was once…someone I loved,” the woman spoke quietly as she looked down at Mallory. “When he left to go to work for Negan, it was supposed to be temporary.”

Mallory sat in silence, stunned and feeling completely sick to her stomach. _What_ _had_ _Negan_ _done_ _now?_

“He was going to take the Sanctuary, and we were all going to live there together,” Alpha continued, almost wistfully. “We were going to be happy, and our families weren’t going to have to roam around with the undead any longer.”  

Alpha’s voice grew harder as she spoke.

“But your man killed Dwight, and now he’s never coming back.”

“Negan won’t come for me,” Mallory whispered sadly.  He was probably still mad that she had gone to Rick; no way would he come rescue her now after she’d left yet again.

“She’s lying,” Amber interjected. “He’ll come, especially after we delivered the package.”

“The package?” Mallory stupidly asked as she looked between the women.

“Your hand, idiot.  We cut off your hand, and wrapped it up in a pretty, little bag, and sent it to Negan.” Amber arched one delicate eyebrow, her full lips turned up in a self-satisfied smirk.  “He’ll come.”

Mallory felt the air leave her lungs again, as she realized just what was going on. They were going to lure Negan here and kill him, and probably her too, and everyone they cared about.   She looked up with panic-stricken eyes at Amber, pleading with the woman to see reason.

“He protected you!” Mallory shrieked angrily.

“He oppressed us! Forced us to do things we didn’t want to do!” Amber hissed back.  "He was an asshole, and he deserves to die!" 

“Enough!” Alpha roared, silenceing both women.   She turned to Amber.  “Stay here with her, make sure she doesn’t die on us. She’s no good to us dead.”

Without another word, Alpha left, leaving a smug Amber alone with a terrified Mallory.

“You thought you were the queen bee, didn’t you?” Amber giggled as she pulled something out of her pocket. "Recognize this?”

_It was the red scarf Mallory had given Negan._

"How...I don't..." Mallory stuttered dumbly.  

“He gave it to me,” Amber wrapped the scarf around her neck and closed her eyes with a happy sigh.  “Last time he fucked me, he told me to keep it.  He tied me up with it, and fucked me in every way imaginable.”

A single tear rolled down Mallory’s cheek as the lump in her throat constricted her breathing.   Seeing it, Amber latched onto that moment of weakness like a dog would with a bone, and she squatted down in front of Mallory, an evil smile in place.

“That’s right, bitch.  Once you left, he needed someone to comfort him, and who else but me?” Amber slowly trailed one bright red fingernail up Mallory’s leg. “He always said what a boring fuck you were in bed.  That he couldn’t wait to be rid of you so that he could get laid properly.”

Mallory looked away, tears freely rolling down her cheeks, and not a damn thing she could do about it.

“Hurts don’t it? To know you can be so easily replaced?” Amber continued her diatribe. “He would fuck me in all the ways you wouldn’t let him.  Little prudish ass, always pretending to be better than everyone.”

Mallory sniffled, and again attempted to swallow the lump that was trying to strangle her. Her head was swimming with images of Negan and Amber together, in their bed.

“You know, he tied me up with this scarf more than a few times,” Amber wrapped the scarf around her wrists for emphasis. “He was never happy with you.  We used to laugh about how completely pathetic you were.”

“You’re lying,” Mallory feebly tried to disagree, although her insecurities were rising up and swallowing her whole.   Amber leaned forward, pressing the tip of a knife against Mallory’s cheek as she did so.

“He was never happier than when he found out you had lost the baby,” Amber dragged the knife tip down Mallory’s cheek. “He was finally rid of your dumb, pathetic ass.  Always clinging to him, never contributing.”

Mallory bit her lip in pain as she felt the sharp blade slice into the soft skin of her cheek.  It burned, but it was an almost welcome pain. She knew that the warmth that was running down her cheek was now blood mixed with tears, and she closed her eyes, praying that Amber would just end it all.  Right here, right now.  She couldn’t take anymore; in this moment, death was more and more appealing.  She already felt like the knife was buried in her heart, why not really do it?  

Amber wasn't through, though...

“That’s why he never followed you or came looking for you. All those times at Alexandria, you think he didn’t know you were there?” Amber dragged the knife down Mallory’s jaw. “He knew.  And he didn’t care.  Stupid, little, pathetic bitch.  You were never strong enough for a man like Negan.  Weak ass.”

Mallory no longer tried to disagree.  She didn’t have any fight left in her. All her fears, all her doubts about her and Negan and the baby - all came crashing down around her.   She was never meant to survive in this world;  she just wasn't cut out for it.  

“I’ll be surprised if he even shows up here,” Amber casually remarked as she stood up and dusted off her jeans. “What the hell would he want with a lame ass girlfriend like you?  Loses his baby, and now you can't even give a good fucking hand-job.”

“You’re right,” Mallory muttered as she dropped her head to her chest in defeat. “What would he want with me?”

“Well it’s not just Negan we’re after,” Amber chuckled as she made her way to the door. “Rick got a similar message.” With that parting remark, Amber stepped outside the room and closed the door, enveloping the room in darkness again.

“Mal…Mallory?” the whisper came from the corner of the room closet to the door, and Mallory’s heart dropped again.

_It couldn’t be._

_Please_ _god_ _no!_ Mallory screamed internally as the terror crept over her. _Please_ _no!_

She shuffled on her bottom in an attempt to get a better look.

“Mallory?” the voice came again, plain as day and full of fear as it got closer. “I’m scared, Mallory.”

Carl appeared at her side, obviously not tied up like she was.  

“Carl! Are you okay?” Mallory cried as she looked him over for any signs of wounds.  His head was bowed, covered by that ridiculous hat that he always wore. She couldn’t see anything right away, and she was relieved when she found his hands intact.

“Mallory…” Carl trailed off as he looked up at her, finally giving her a good look at his face as he turned from the shadows.

“Oh my god,” Mallory gasped.

_They had taken his eye._

They had taken his eye, and in it’s place was an empty socket, caked with blood and dirt, and emptiness. Mallory felt her stomach turn again as she stared at the boy next to her.  What kind of monsters did this to a child?

“What do we do, Mallory?” Carl asked as he scooted closer to her, seeking out her warmth. “My dad will come, won’t he?”

Mallory did her best to wrap her good arm around Carl, although it was hard to do so with her constraints and injured hand.  Carl, seeming much younger than his 14 years, pressed his slim frame against hers.   

"Mallory?"  Carl asked again.  "Dad will come, and we'll be fine, right?"  

Mallory dropped her head back against the wall, eyes closed in exhaustion and utter defeat.  She didn't know what to say to Carl, what to say to ease his fears, when she couldn't even ease her own fears.  

One thing was certain, though:  Rick would surely come, if no one else.  Carl was his world, and Rick would gladly die for him.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**The Sanctuary**

Negan, Stephen, Terrence, and a few other men were gathered in Negan’s office, with the two gate guards from the morning shift being the center of attention.

“What did they fucking say?” Negan growled as he pressed Lucille up against the guard’s temple. The man was nearly pissing his pants in fear, but Negan was undeterred. 

“Nothing, Boss, I swear!  Only that we should give the bag to you,” the second guard piped up, drawing Negan’s angry eyes to him.  He released the handful of shirt he had twisted in his fist and turned his attention to the other guard.  

“And what did they fucking look like?” Negan moved to the guard that had just spoken.  The younger man's eyes widened in fear, much like his buddy to his left.   “Was it the Alexandria group? The fucking Hilltop fuckers? _What_. _The_. _Fuck_. _Did_. _They_. _Look_. _Like?_ ”  Each word was punctuated with anger, as Negan’s patience was running dangerously thin.

“They seemed to be wearing some kind of skin, like camouflage or something,” the guard answered quickly.

“Camo?” Stephen asked from behind Negan. He remembered what one of the scouts had said about the “ _talking_ _walkers_ ” and how they walked among the dead.  He'd not believed it at the time, but now it might actually make some sense.   Negan turned and gave Stephen an angry glare to remind him of his place.  Stephen nodded, deferring to his leader, but his mind was scrambling to remember all he’d heard.

“And they were walking with the roamers, Boss. Like right in the middle of them, and not one attacked them,” the guard sputtered again. Negan lowered Lucille and walked away from the guards, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to make sense of everything he’d just heard.

“Boss,” Stephen began carefully.

“What the fucking fuck, Stephen?” Negan stared up at the ceiling in exasperation.  If everyone would just shut the fuck up, he could think this thing through! _Fucking_ _fuck!_

“It’s just, I heard some of the scouts talking about some things they’d seen while out on patrol. Walkers that talked, they said.  And carried knives.”

Negan turned incredulous eyes on Stephen. “The fuck you say?”

“Yes,” Stephen nodded in agreement. “The scouts said they were attacked, and the walkers had knives. That they…that they talked amongst themselves. That they were camouflaged to look like walkers.”

A knock came at the door, and it slowly opened. Carson timidly peered from around the door.

“What?” Negan barked at the man.

“It’s Amber, Boss. She is missing, and no one’s seen her since Dwight’s death.”

Negan growled low in his throat as he began pacing the small room, Lucille swinging at his side.

“Get out. All of you fucking fucks, get the fuck out.”

As the men made to leave, Negan spoke again.

“Stephen. Terrence. You two stay.”

Once the door was closed, and only the three remained, Negan took up his seat behind his desk.  HIs chair creaked as he wearily sat down and held his forehead with his fingers.

“Look, I don’t know you very well, since you’re both fucking new, but…” Negan looked up, the age and stress showing evident on his weathered face.  Stephen stepped forward, chin confidently raised.

“Whatever we need to do, we’ll do it, Boss.”

“It’s my problem, and I can’t force you to do anything,” Negan continued, almost apologetically.   Uncharacteristically apologetic, and Stephen picked up on it immediately.  

“I said we’ll do it,” Stephen answered again, his voice firmer this time as he looked over at Terrence. “I think the three of us can handle this, no problem.”

Terrence nodded in agreement.

Negan leaned back in his chair, his brows slightly raised at the young, almost-arrogant blonde man before him.  Stephen reminded him of a younger version of himself, back before the world had gone to shit and things made sense.  Now, it was almost laughable. They were walking into a veritable shit storm, and Stephen seemed almost happy to go. _What_ _the_ _fuck?_

* * *

 

Later that evening as Negan readied himself for what was sure to be war, he was getting more and more angry.  He had torn this fucking room apart, and still hadn't found the scarf that Mallory had given him.  Maybe he was a superstitious man, or maybe he was just fucking crazy, but he didn't feel right not having it on him.  

He'd never _not_ had it on him, not since the day he'd started wearing it.   

He sat down on the bed, his nerves frayed and hands shaking, and for the first time in a long, long time, he bowed his head and prayed.  He didn't know what else to do anymore, so he did what his grandmother always told him to do when in doubt.

_Pray._

To a God that he hadn't spoken to in years and years, he prayed.  He prayed for protection over Mallory.  He prayed that he would be smart enough, quick enough, 'whatever' enough that he needed to be in order to save her.   He prayed to God that he'd be man enough to protect Mallory.  He prayed to God to give him the strength needed to fight those that had her. He prayed, and begged, and pleaded, vowing to give everything up and do things better if God would just bring Mallory back to him.  He'd give his life for her, and he pledged that to God as well.  

  

_Whatever it took, he'd do it._

"Just bring her back," he whispered to God, his eyes closing as  he collapsed back on the bed.  


	25. Chapter 25

**Alexandria...**

_An eye for an eye, right?_

_If you want what’s left of your son, you and Negan will be at our border at sundown tomorrow._

That was the 10th time or so that he'd read the note, looking for anything in it to give him clues.  None were to be found, and he felt his world slipping away from him as reality kicked him in the gut.  Rick dropped the bag and the note as nausea washed over him in waves, and he fell to his knees as his heart pounded in his chest with anxiety and fear.

They’d taken Carl.

  

* * *

 

“When’s the last time you saw him?” Rick growled as he pulled his boots on and angrily stood up.

“I’m not sure,” Michonne carefully replied. She stepped out of Rick’s way before he knocked her over. “Look, Rick--”

“He went with Mallory,” Maggie spoke softly from the doorway. Both Michonne and Rick turned to stare at her.

“What?” Rick’s face contorted in angry confusion.

“When Mallory left 2 days ago, he went with her. I couldn’t stop him, Rick. He wanted to make sure she was safe, and I told him not to go, but obviously he went.” Maggie shook her head helplessly.  There was no stopping that boy when he wanted to do something…everyone knew this.

“He’s 14 years old!” Rick roared as he jammed his Colt into the holster at his thigh.

“Did you see this, Maggie?” Rick flung his arm at the bag sitting on the edge of the bed. Maggie walked over and peered inside, her hand flying to her mouth in disgust at what she saw in the burlap bag.  

“Is..that…what I think it is?”

“Yes.” Michonne answered for Rick. “And we’re assuming they have Mallory, too.”

“We need to go to Negan,” Maggie stated firmly. Rick’s face twisted in disgust at the suggestion, but Maggie shook her head. “We need him, Rick. Odds are he got something similar. He's got men, and guns.  We’ll need his help.”

* * *

 

  
The small convoy pulled up to the gates of Alexandria, and Rick stepped out, hands in the air in a show of peace.

“I need to see Negan,” Rick shouted up at the guards. They had their weapons trained on the Alexandrians, but one guard looked at the other and nodded.

A few moments later the gate opened, allowing access. Rick walked alongside the truck as Daryl pulled into the compound. No less than 30 Saviors were already there, their weapons trained on Rick and his crew.

“Where is he?” Rick asked as calmly as he could. “I don’t have time; I need to see him now.”

Morgan and Abraham got out of the vehicles, hands raised in the air as well, and stood behind Rick in support.  Daryl and Michonne stayed inside their car, but watched carefully for any sign of trouble.  

“Rick?” a man with glasses approached Rick, almost timidly. He reminded him of Milton, and Rick’s eyes narrowed on the man.

“Where’s Negan?” Rick dismissed the man as he looked around the Sanctuary.  There were armed men on the rooftops of different buildings. Negan was thorough - that was for sure.  

“He’s gone to get Mallory.”

Rick’s head snapped back around, his blue eyes wide as he stared at the man in glasses. _Where_ _the_ _hell_ _was_ _Mallory?  She hadn't made it back either?_

“What?!”

“He uh…he got…well you see, some--” the man continued stuttering.  Finally, another man stepped forward and addressed Rick, his voice much more confident than the previous one.

“I’m Terrence. Negan left me in charge while he’s gone.” He held his hand out, and Rick warily shook it.

“Where’s Mallory?” Rick asked as he dropped the man’s hand.  He couldn’t be more than 25, Rick thought as he sized the man up.

“Early this morning we had a... _delivery_. It was a hand, and we think it was Mallory’s.  In a bag.  Delivered right to our doorstep.” The man, Terrence, grimaced in disgust as he recounted the morning’s event.  He didn’t even know Mallory, but it made him sick to his stomach nonetheless.

“Oh my god,” Morgan gasped behind Rick. “Is Mallory okay?”

“We don’t know,” Terrence offered solemnly. “Negan and a few men went to get her.  Some crazy fucks out there are wearing walker skin.  Or human skin, we don't know just yet.  Some camp not too far down the road, maybe less than 10 miles away.”

“Carl’s with her, then,” Rick muttered as he turned around to stare at Michonne.

_“Carl?”_ Terrence asked.

“My son.” Rick’s jaw hardened as he turned around to Terrence. “They sent us an eye, in a bag.  Probably just like what you got.”

Terrence was taken aback at Rick’s words, and he shook his head in pity.

“It’s a trap, Rick.” Abraham placed a hand on Rick’s shoulder in an attempt to calm the leader down. Rick just shrugged him off and headed back to the truck. He crawled in beside Daryl, and slammed the door shut. He was shaking, a mess of nerves and fury.

“Rick!” Abraham yelled as he followed the man back to the truck. “They got you and Negan, there together. You know it’s a trap. You don’t have to be prior military to know what the hell is about to go down.  It's gonna be a complete clusterfuck of epic proportions.”

“ _And_? I have to go,” Rick pulled out a map and started staring at, his fingers tracing over roads. “How do I find this place?” Rick called to Terrence as he looked around Abraham.

Terrence walked over and quickly gave Rick the directions to the border of the other peoples land.  When he was through, he placed his hands on the open window sill, and stared down at Rick.

“You’ll know when you get there, when you've crossed into their lands. They’ve got a row of heads marking their border.”


	26. Chapter 26

Rick and his crew pulled down the dirt road leading to where Terrence said the Whisperers would be, about 3 miles out from the "border".

_The Whisperers._

Rick was still trying to wrap his mind around that.  What kind of people would walk around in rotting skin, and live among the walkers? And why the hell did they take Carl? He couldn’t think of any reason why they would have done what they had done to Carl and Mallory.

_It had to be Negan_. That was the only alternative. 

Rick knew scouts from Alexandria had tangled with walkers in this part of town, but _they were walkers_. He'd heard nothing of walkers that talked or fought back with weapons. It just didn't make sense!  

It had to be something Negan had done, and now they were all gonna pay for it. Rick could only imagine what that psychopath had done now...

He was still lost in his thoughts when Michonne came up on two other cars sitting off on the side of the road.  His eyes narrowed when he saw Negan rise up from his spot at the front of the first car.  

“Pull over!” Rick ordered, opening the door before Michonne could even stop and jumping out.  

He had his rifle ready, pointed straight at Negan as he approached the Saviors.  There were only 3 of them, Negan included.  Negan held Lucille at his side, an ugly reminder of who he was and what he'd done to Glenn, but Rick knew now was not the time or place for that.    As much as it pained him to admit it, he needed Negan right now; he just needed to get this idiot to listen to him. 

“Nice to see you, too, Prick,” Negan walked around the car and stood before Rick.  The two Saviors flanked Negan, rifles unwaveringly trained back on Rick.  

“What the hell did you do?” Rick snarled.

“Well, Prick, I’d like to ask you the same fuckin' thing,” Negan cocked his head to the side. "Seems to me, Mallory left your place and all this fuckin' shit went down.  So maybe I should kill you first, and then them?"  

Negan stepped forward, gripping Lucille tighter as his eyes narrowed on Rick.   Fury was emanating off the tall, dark haired man as he lifted Lucille in the air.  

"Stop this!" Rick demanded as he backed up a bit.  "We've both got problems!"  

Negan halted at his words, but did not release his baseball-grip on Lucille.  

“My son," Rick quietly admitted. "They have my son."

Negan took in a deep breath, and looked down at the ground at Rick's revelation.  That kid was young, maybe 15 or so.   _What the fuckin' fuck_? 

“They got Mallory,” he mumbled to the ground. The big man's shoulders were slumped in defeat, and Rick lowered his weapon. There was no threat from Negan, not now at least.

“I know.” Rick strapped his rifle back over his shoulder. “So who are these people and what’s the plan?”

“Well, I’m planning on marching my happy fuckin' ass right up to the fuckin' gates and blowing their asses up.”  Negan was deadpan, and Rick knew the psycho wasn't kidding.  

“You think that’s smart?” Daryl asked. He’d come to stand behind Rick.  Negan shot him a look of annoyance over Rick's shoulder before dismissing him altogether.  

“They’re cutting off fucking hands and shit,” Negan barked back, his attention back on the leader of Alexandria. “I don't know? Maybe it's just fuckin' me, but they don’t seem like the most reasonable fuckin' people out here.”

“You know, Abraham thinks it’s a trap,” Rick stated.  He ran a hand through his hair and kicked some rocks on the pavement, his frustration mounting.

Negan looked over Rick’s shoulder to see the large, red-haired man staring back at him from the car he was in.  Rick spoke again, drawing Negan's attention back to him. 

“I agree with him. You, and me, are what these people want, for whatever reason, and we need to go together. The rest of our people can hang back, and come in when we need help.”  He looked up at Negan.

Negan stepped forward, Lucille perched on his shoulder now.  His jaw was flexing with anger under the salt and pepper beard, but he had that infuriating grin on his face, his attempt to add an air of confidence to an otherwise fucked-up situation.  

_Rick knew it was complete and utter_ _bullshit_.  

Now, more than ever, he believed Negan was nothing more than a figurehead, a facade that could be easily crumbled if pushed hard enough. Mallory was that button, and it had been pushed, and pushed hard. 

_The man was scared shitless... and scared shitless people do stupid things that got people killed._

“I don’t give a fuck what they think they’re gonna fuckin’ do.  When this is over, they’re gonna fuckin’ know just who the fuck I am, and what I’m fuckin' capable of.”

Hearing those words, Rick angrily lashed out, and without thinking, grabbed Negan by the front of his shirt, and pulled him down to his level.  Rick's men,  and Negan's men raised their weapons again, preparing for what might come next.  The tension was thick as Rick and Negan stared into each others eyes. 

“Listen! My son is in there. They cut out his eye! Mallory is out there!” Rick glared at Negan. “I’m not taking a risk on either of them getting killed because you’re too damn hot-headed to see reason!”

“Take your fuckin' hands off me, Prick,” Negan warned him quietly, his brown eyes flashing angrily.  Rick released him, and stepped back. All the other men - Rick's and Negan's alike - lowered their weapons as the leaders separated.  

Rick paced for a moment, his hands on his hips as he stared down the road before him.  He had to get Negan to understand reason.  He had to get him to understand that they couldn't just barge in this place and start blowing things up. That was the quickest way to get Mallory and Carl killed. There had to be a better way.  The only thing was...could he trust Negan to follow his plan, and to stick to it?  He trusted the man about as far as he could throw him...

...but he had to try. 

“I want my son back, you want Mallory back. We do this the smart way,” Rick continued, trying to calm his voice down and diffuse the situation. “We do this the smart way, and nobody gets killed, okay?”

Negan let out a resigned sigh and ran a hand over his weary face.  Lucille hung at his hip, just as defeated as her owner was. 

“I’m listening.”


	27. Chapter 27

Less than an hour later, Rick and Negan drove the pickup past the rows of decapitated heads, finally crossing into the Whisperers' territory just as the sun was getting ready to sink behind the trees.  Right on time, they pulled up in the middle of the small, abandoned town, and both got out of the truck.

“Look, I know you’re out here. We wanna talk,” Rick called out loudly.

He cut his eyes at Negan and shook his head, silently begging him to not say anything stupid. Negan just sucked on his teeth and looked around impatiently.  He had that damn bat of his perched on his shoulder, looking anything but negotiable.

It was quiet here, no birds, no insects, no nothing.  It was eerily peaceful, the only sound the nervous breaths of Rick and Negan as they waited.

They didn’t have to wait long, as a few moments later what appeared to be walkers approached from behind an empty house. They were moving in a controlled group, and Rick felt his heart speed up as he watched them get closer.  

"Look at these crazy fuckers," Negan muttered, drawing another warning glance from Rick.  

The group came closer, and it was clear that these walkers were not dead. 

“Drop your weapons,” the lead “ _walker_ ” ordered firmly.  

They had come close, stopping barely 5 feet in front of Rick and Negan.  There were 5 of them in total, all covered in what appeared to be human, rotting, skin.  Even their faces were covered, with the only openings the mouth, eyes, and nose.  They carried knives, and two had pistols pointed at Rick and Negan.

“Alpha is waiting for you.”

* * *

 

“So you see, this didn’t have to happen.” The woman, called Alpha,  stood before a kneeling Rick and Negan.

Their hands were tied and resting against their thighs, both completely at the mercy of this crazy bald-headed bitch that stood before them. Negan wanted nothing more than to get up and strangle her with his bare hands, to force the life from her cold, blue eyes and watch her take her last breath because of him.

But he hadn’t seen Mallory yet, and he couldn’t take that chance...

“Just let us see them!” Rick looked up at Alpha. “Do what you want with us, but let us see that Carl and Mallory are okay.”

“You think you’re in charge, Rick Grimes?” Alpha asked with a smirk. “You don’t give orders here.”  She stood there, staring down at Rick and Negan arrogantly.  Her arms were crossed over her chest.

Negan thought how easily it would be to break them, rip them out of her shoulders,  and beat the shit out of her with them...

“You,” she pointed over at Negan, “killed Dwight.”  

Negan shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care.  

"Well, your boyfriend was a fuckin' rapist, so I cut his dick off and fed it to him," Negan grinned up at Alpha, cocky and arrogant.  Rick glared at him, but Negan paid no heed.  "Too bad he didn't fuckin' choke on it.  Not that I didn't fuckin' try, you know, but he must have left his dick here with you when he--"    

Her mouth taut in anger, Alpha walked over to Negan and slapped him across the face, the sound of her palm connecting with his cheek cracking loudly in the night air.  Rocked, Negan almost fell over, but managed to catch his balance just before he did so.  He pushed himself back up with his bound hands, his jaw rolling as he turned his face up to Alpha again.  A small trickle of blood rolled from his lip where his teeth had cracked it, and he licked it away with another toothy grin. 

Alpha walked away from him, but he could tell he'd gotten to her, gotten in her head.   _Good_. _._.

“And you,” she stopped before Rick, “your people killed mine for no reason. You were trespassing on our land.”

“We didn’t know!” Rick argued back.

 _Ever_ _the_ _mediator_ , _the_ _peacekeepeing Rick-Fucking-Grimes_ , Negan thought to himself.   Stupid fuck, there was no talking out of this mess.

Alpha continued listing all the reasons why she had to kill both Rick and Negan, and Rick again attempted to negotiate his way out of it. 

All the while, Negan remained quiet,  his jaw beginning to hurt as he grit his teeth, harder and harder as his fury grew.  That stupid fucking bitch had bitch-slapped him.  She had him fucking tied up, and on his knees like some little bitch.   _Wouldn't_ _be_ _long_ _now,_ _though_.  The sun had been down for at least 30 minutes. _Yep._  He looked back up, his eyes landing on the bald-headed bitch again.  He was going to enjoy choking the life from her. He ordinarily didn’t kill women, but this bitch was going to get Lucilled if it was the last fucking thing he ever did on this fucking planet.  

He couldn’t control the grin that tugged at his lips as he thought about her brains being bashed out by his hands, about the way she would look as her head exploded under Lucille's wrath...

“I fail to see the humor in this situation,” Alpha remarked as she caught sight of Negan’s face.  She walked back over to stand in front of him.

“Well, that’s too fucking bad, ain’t it?” Negan chuckled to himself as he shifted on his knees.

“Negan!” Rick hissed angrily, but he stopped whatever else he was going to say when he heard the sound.  His eyes went wide as he stared out into the darkness. 

It was faint, but he was sure of it.

Alpha looked around, her brows drawn together as she, too,  tried to decipher the sound. There were nervous mumblings and shuffling among the Whisperers as they turned and stared towards the tree lines, but there was nothing to be seen - only the sound, growing louder by the minute as whatever _it_ was got closer. 

 _Whistling_.

Beside him, Negan started whistling the same sound, and Rick felt goose bumps rise on his arms.  It was the exact same noise he heard when he and his group were captured by Negan and the Saviors. The whistling grew louder, and Negan looked up, grinning through his pursed lips up at Alpha.  She frowned at him and stepped closer.

“I think I’ll kill you first,” she stated as she pulled a knife from her belt.

_Swoosh...thud..._

_Swoosh...Swoosh...thud, thud..._

Two Whisperers near Alpha dropped, quickly followed by another, and then another.  The arrows were true to their target, and a moment later the bullets started flying.  With a gasp, Alpha turned to see what was happening behind her, and seeing the opportunity, Negan stood and looped his still tied-together wrists over her head and pulled her back into his chest, forcing her to drop her knife in the process.  Alpha struggled against him, but all hell had broken loose around them.

No one was coming to her rescue.  Negan was much, much stronger than her, and he was pissed.

_He was very, very pissed._

The last few minutes of Alpha’s life were spent watching as Saviors quietly poured in from the darkness, dropping one Whisperer after the next. They were silent assassins that had infiltrated the camp unknown, and were now tearing it apart, piece by piece by piece, right before her very eyes.

Negan bent Alpha over with him as he leaned down, twisting her neck at an awkward angle until he heard the satisfying crack of breaking bones. The leader of the Whisperers slid down his body, through his arms, and puddled into a lifeless heap at his feet.  Wordlessly, Negan walked over to where Alpha had dropped her knife and scooped it up, quickly cutting the binding from his hands.

“Give it to me!” Rick yelled.

Negan tossed him the knife, and then collected a rifle and a pistol from a fallen Whisperer.  He found one still alive, and dragged the woman to her feet. She had an arrow sticking out from her shoulder, and Negan grabbed the tip and pushed it up, forcing the woman to scream in agony.

“Tell me where they are, and I’ll fucking kill you quickly,” Negan growled as he ripped the disgusting mask off her face. She was young, her eyes wild with terror as she stared up at him, her mouth bowed in a silent plea for him to not kill her.

Negan didn’t care.

He pressed his palm against the tip of the protruding arrow, driving the wound up further, the flesh ripping wide open as the muscle tore beneath it.

“The boy and the woman. _Where_ _the_ _fuck_ _are_ _they?_ ” He pressed harder, and blood poured from the wound, soaking her shirt and his hand.

“In the barn,” the woman gasped in pain. “The barn.” She weakly nodded towards the rear of the camp.

Negan looked over his shoulder, seeing that there was a barn there in the distance, right at the edge of the tents.  He turned back to the young woman before him, and without another word, grabbed the pistol from the back of his jeans, pressed the tip against her forehead, and squeezed the trigger. His ears rang as blood and brains splattered against his jacket and face, and the second woman dropped at his feet.  

Satisfied, he stepped over her as if she were nothing, and tucked the gun back into his jeans.  He looked over at Rick, who was staring back at him with what could be described as a mixture of awe and disgust.   Negan shrugged again. 

“You fuckin’ comin’ or what?” Negan took off walking in the direction of the barn.

 Rick grabbed a weapon from a fallen Whisperer, and quickly followed. 


	28. Chapter 28

Negan and Rick made their way to the barn, dodging and killing both walkers and Whisperers along the way.  A few moments in, Stephen had found Negan, and assured him that the rest of the Whisperer's community would be taken care of; Rick and Negan should focus on finding Mallory and Carl.  The majority of the camp had been cleared, and Negan hurriedly convinced Rick that Stephen had things under control.  Satisfied, they approached the barn together, but was clear that something was going on inside.  Hearing screaming, Rick frantically jammed his shoulder into the door, forcing it open.  He stumbled inside, rifle at the ready, and with Negan close on his heels.  

The screaming had stopped, and now it was eerily quiet inside.  

There was one light bulb swinging in the center of the room, casting an eerie glow throughout.  Like something out of a horror movie, the yellow glow illuminated the figure off near the far side of the small barn. The person - a woman, with her back to them -  was standing over a slumped body;  in her right hand was a knife, it’s silver dripping with blood.  Her shoulders were heaving, clearly having just killed whomever or whatever lay at her feet.  Not able to make out who it was, Negan cautiously stepped forward.  

“Dad!” Carl yelled as he ran from his spot in the corner to his father.  Rick enveloped his son in a tight hug as he collapsed to his knees, and didn’t even try to hide the tears that were rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh thank god!” Rick mumbled against Carl’s hair, holding his son tight against him.  Through blurry eyes, he watched as Negan went to the woman.  

It was Mallory; Rick was sure of it.  

“Mallory? _Baby?_ ” Negan spoke softly as he approached her.  He knew it was her now;  that mass of tangled curls cascading down her back had given her away the moment his eyes had adjusted to the light.  He held out a hand, and cautiously reached for the knife.  Hearing her name, Mallory stiffened, and turned around to face him.

Her eyes were wide and haunted, and she had blood splattered across her cheeks, and clothing... _if_ _you_ _could_ _call_ _it_ _clothing_.   Her legs were bare, and the only thing covering her thin frame was a long, ratty tee-shirt that was much too big for her.  He saw that her knees were bloody, and Negan forcefully pushed aside thoughts of rape and other shit; he knew he needed to be level-headed as much as possible.  

“Give me the knife, baby,” Negan spoke softly as he reached again for the weapon.  

Mallory looked down at her hand, almost in confusion, and let the knife slide from her fingers.  It angrily clattered against the concrete floor, and Mallory pulled her wounded arm against her chest and backed up a few steps away from him.  Although she had stepped further into the shadows, he could see the whites of her eyes as she stared back at him in an almost-fearful state.  

Negan looked down and saw that it was Amber that had been lying dead at Mallory’s feet.  Her throat was slit, her eyes wide open and staring blankly up at the ceiling. The blood was angry and menacing as it pooled around her head and spread across the floor.   She hadn't turned yet, so it was obvious that whatever had happened was just recent.    He looked back up, and saw that Mallory was moving back towards Amber, and he watched her, almost as if time had slowed down, and she herself was moving in slow-motion. 

Mallory knelt down and took the knife in her hand again.  She was trembling, her entire body shaking as she leaned over Amber’s deceased body, and Negan still watched her.  His mind was screaming at him to do something, to move, but he felt rooted to the floor, almost as if his legs just wouldn't cooperate.  

“I have to finish it,” she mumbled to herself, and before Negan could stop her, she had driven the knife blade deep into Amber’s eye, the noise it made turning Negan's stomach, and he gasped out loud,  never having seen Mallory do something like that.  

“I have to finish it.” She pulled the knife out, and was about to drive it in again, when Negan grabbed her by her wrist.

“Baby! It’s over!” Negan tried to pry the knife from her, but Mallory struggled against him.

“I have to finish it! They hurt Carl!” Mallory shrieked as she attempted to plunge the knife in again.  Negan was quicker this time, and stronger than her, and pulled the knife from her fingers and threw it behind him on the floor.  He turned back and attempted to pull Mallory into his arms, but she pulled away.

“Don’t touch me!” she spat at him.  Her mangled arm was clutched against her chest almost protectively, and he would never forget that look in her eyes, that feral look as she stared back at him, teeth bared in a snarl.  In the light, he could now see that her cheek was sliced open, almost from her ear to her chin, the dried blood mixing with the fresh blood from Amber.  

She was wild and she was terrifying, and Negan himself was trembling as he reached for her again.  He didn’t know what the fuck to do right now, had no idea how to calm her down.

“Don’t touch me!” Mallory screamed again as she shrank against the wall, her eyes wild with terror.  It was almost like she didn’t recognize him, as if she were seeing him but not - all at the same time. _What_ _the fuck had these son of a bitches done to her?_

“Mallory, sweetie,” Rick coaxed her gently as he came up around Negan. “It’s over, okay? It’s us, we’ve come for you, okay? It’s Rick, and Negan, and Carl, okay?”

Negan gritted his teeth in frustration as Mallory seemed to relax at Rick’s words, but he knew getting her safe was more important than his wounded ego right now.  

“Can you come with us, Mallory?” Rick reached out and gently placed his hand on the wrist of her right hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. Mallory blinked a few times as her eyes welled with tears , seemingly coming out of the fog she was in.

“Rick?” She timidly whispered. Rick nodded and smiled back at her, encouraging her.

Her eyes moved to Negan, and he felt his heart leap just the tiniest bit when he saw the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. “Negan?”

“Yeah baby, it’s me,” Negan gently smiled at her as he hesitantly stepped forward again. Rick led her to Negan, and and Negan took Mallory’s hand in his as he pulled her into his chest. He was careful not to touch her wounded arm.

“You came for me?” Mallory whispered against his chest as she trembled against him.  Above her, Negan looked up at the ceiling helplessly. _God he didn’t know what to fucking do!_

“Of course, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay, now,” he whispered against her hair. All he wanted to do was hold her, to feel her breathing against him, and to know she was okay.  But he was scared, more scared than he'd ever been.  He knew she was not okay.   _She was not even remotely okay._

More gunshots and shouts arose outside the barn, and Negan looked over the top of Mallory's head at Rick and Carl. 

“We have to get out of here, now!” Rick jerked his head towards the door.  Negan nodded, and the four of them made their way out the door and into the cover of night.

* * *

A few hours later, they found themselves back at the Sanctuary.  It was closer, and given that it was still night, Rick and Carl had decided to stay put for the night.  Daryl and the rest of Rick's group were not back at the original spot along the road, and it was too dark to travel.  As Negan stepped outside into the cool night air, he saw Rick leaned up against the railing of one of the buildings.   He approached the Alexandria leader, thinking to himself how weird it was the way shit had managed to work itself out.  

"How is she?"  

"Sleeping.  She won't leave Carl's side," Rick answered without looking over at the leader of the Saviors.  

Since they'd gotten back, Mallory had been in a hysterical state, almost as if she were in shock.  She waffled between not speaking at all, to laughing like a madwoman.  She was babbling incoherently about babies, and Amber, and red scarfs - not a bit of it made sense.   She wouldn't let Negan touch her, she barely let Rick.  The only person that could keep her calm at the moment was Carl.   Not without a struggle, they'd at least managed to get her wound clean, and now she had clean bandages covering her wrist.  Her cheek had been sewn up with stitches.  Carl had his eye tended to, and now had a makeshift patch over it.  Both had been given medication for pain, and were now sleeping in Negan and Mallory's old room.   Rick didn't like the situation, but what could he do?  He knew Carl needed Mallory as much as she needed him, and none of them were in a position to be traveling back home to Alexandria. 

"We'll leave at first light tomorrow," Rick stated quietly. 

"Look, I know we've had our... _differences_...in the past, but--"

" _Differences_?"  Rick hissed angrily.  He turned to Negan, his hand resting on the Colt at his hip.  "Is that what you call bashing in the head of one of my people with a baseball bat!?"

"How many of my men did you fucking kill, Grimes?" Negan shot back.  

The two men stared at each other for a few tense moments, before Negan finally looked away.  He sighed wearily as he looked down at the ground, his breath steamy in the cool night air.  

  

"Look, I don't know how to fix this fucking shit," Negan admitted, maybe more to himself than to Rick.  "I don't know what to do to help Mallory, I don't know what to do to stop having to fucking kill all the time... _I_ _just_ _don't_ _fucking know anymore._ "  

Truer words had never been spoken by Negan - he'd never felt more helpless in his whole life.  It seemed like he was always fucking up something where Mallory was concerned, and he wondered if he was ever gonna get it fucking right. Again, that nagging feeling crept up on him, that feeling that maybe she would be better off with Rick and his group, rather than with him...  

"Yeah? I don't either," Rick confessed as well.  He moved his hand off his Colt and leaned back over the railing.  It was quiet here, the walls well-protected enough to allow people to rest easy at night.  He'd forgotten what it was like to feel at ease, to feel as if he could get a good night's sleep and not have to have one eye open all night.  

"I'm going to find somewhere to lay down." Negan ran a hand over his face.  "I'm fucking tired as shit."  

"Hey...that back there..." Rick began, halting Negan in his tracks.  "If it hadn't been for your men, and your plan, I don't know what would have happened."  Rick swallowed his pride as he gave Negan the best thanks he could come up with.  

"Yeah," Negan offered, and both men cleared their throats uncomfortably.  "Carson will be along shortly.  He'll help you find a room, or you can stay where Mal and your son are.  Doesn't fuckin' matter to me."  With that, Negan stalked off into the night, disappearing into the shadows.  

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so damn sorry! I posted another chapter and completely forgot about this one. Forgive me haha

The next morning, Negan crawled out of his makeshift bed on an abandoned couch in one of the empty rooms in the compound.  His head was throbbing, a painful reminder of last night’s overindulgence of whiskey, and his mouth felt as if it were full of cotton. He swung his feet around as he sat up, and winced as the empty bottle loudly rattled across the floor, and disappeared under the couch.

“Fucking fuck,” he moaned as he pressed his fingertips to his temples. He squinted down at the watch on his wrist.

_7:23AM_

He knew he needed to get his ass up and in motion, as Rick and his son would be leaving shortly. He was worried how Mallory would take them leaving.  As he got dressed, he hoped and prayed that she would have recovered somewhat, and would be more willing to see him. To talk to him. Something.

He pulled his boots on with a great amount of aggravation. It pissed him off to no end that Mallory was treating him as if _he’d_ done something wrong. All he’d ever try to do was make her happy.  Hell, last night he’d willingly walked into a deadly situation, just to save her.  He knew going in that his plan was full of holes, and not letting Rick in on it was probably not the best fucking idea, but he did it anyways.  It worked, and nobody died that shouldn’t have.  All’s well that ends well, right?

But all wasn’t well. Far from it…

He shrugged into his jacket as he made his way over to the communal bathroom. Seeing him coming, members of his group scattered, their eyes downcast as they got out of his way. The bathroom emptied quickly once he got inside, and he thought about taking a shower, but his need to see Mallory was greater. He quickly brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face in an attempt to wake up.

The door opened, and in walked Rick Grimes.

“Negan,” Rick greeted him quietly.

“Rick,” Negan replied as he wiped his face down with a rag from his pocket. He walked towards the exit, his hand on the knob when Rick spoke.

"How's your son?"  Negan asked out of forced politeness.  He didn't want to be here talking to fucking Rick, or asking about his fucking son.  He wanted to be with Mallory.  Period. 

"Better. He's with your doc right now, getting cleaned up again.  We may be leaving a little later than we thought, if that's okay with you.  I need to make sure Carl is good to go should something happen on the road." 

"Yep.  Whatever you need to do, do it," Negan answered.  He pushed his hair back off his head, wincing at his reflection in the dirty mirror.  He looked like shit, and his beard was getting more grey by the damn day. 

“Mallory is talking,” Rick stated.  He turned the water on and ran his hands under it as he began cleaning up. “Not a lot, but she seems better.”

Negan tried to tamp down his growing aggravation at the fact that this prick had already seen Mallory and he hadn’t.   _What in the actual fuck??_

“Carl’s not with her right now, and won't be back for a while, I'd guess.” Rick stared at Negan through the mirror.  

Negan nodded in understanding, and walked out the door.

 


	30. Chapter 30

Negan quietly made his way down the long hall that led to his room. He almost walked right in, but stopped himself just short and knocked on the door a few times. _He was knocking on his own fucking door…._

Not hearing anything, he carefully open the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. Mallory was curled up on the bed, wrapped around his pillow, and for just a moment, it seemed like every other day before all this shit happened. Mallory was in bed, waiting for him to get back from a run. Sometimes she would be reading, other times she'd be fast asleep, and other times she'd be waiting up for him. Either way, he always had her to look forward to coming back home to.

Now? Now she was in their bed, but he couldn't feel more like an intruder if he tried.

Weird fucking night.

He sighed as he pulled his tee-shirt off and tossed it on the floor. His boots soon followed, along with his belt; he kept his jeans on and made his way over to a chair next to the bed and sat down. He was trying to be as quiet as possible so as to allow Mallory to rest. He hadn't slept last night, so maybe he could catch a few minutes of rest himself. He slouched down in the chair, his head propped up on the palm of one hand.

She was cleaned up, but he could see that she wasn’t herself yet. Not by a long shot. Her hand had been obviously chopped off with a hatchet, or axe, as it was fairly clean, but it had looked really, really bad - at least to his eyes. It was clean and re-bandaged, but they wouldn’t know for a few days if it was indeed infected or not. Hopefully the antibiotics that the doc had given her would keep any lingering bug at bay. He reached over and pushed some hair off her forehead, being careful not to disturb the wound on her cheek. It had required a row of stitches, the dark lines laying in sharp contrast against the paleness of her cheeks. He leaned back in his chair and watched her sleep.

Truth be told, it wasn’t the physical stuff he was so worried about - it was her mental state. Carl had given him and his father a rundown of all that had occurred, and it was clear that not only had they tortured Mallory physically, but Amber had gone out of her way to torture her mentally. Carl said that Mallory had been rocking herself, and mumbling about a dead baby, amongst other things. Carl said at one point she was screaming at someone in the corner, but there was no one there, and he'd said this terrified him. He tried to calm her down, he'd said, but it was no use. She would't listen to him, he'd said. It was only when the shit went down that Mallory came to her senses, obviously getting the jump on Amber, and killing the other woman.

He felt the anger rise again, welling deep inside, as he thought about the horrors she’d suffered at the hands of Alpha and Amber.

Yeah, physical you could recover from. Bones could be reset, wounds could be stitched up...hell, you could live without a hand even! It was the emotional toll this had taken on his sweet Mallory. The mental was the hard part, and he was worried that Mallory was going to have a nervous breakdown, if she hadn’t already had one in that damn barn. Mallory was not a killer. What he’d seen her do to Amber was far beyond what he thought she was capable of, and it still turned his stomach to think how she’d shoved that knife into Amber’s eye. Sure, Mallory could take care of herself when needed, but the insane look in her eyes as she stabbed Amber was something he’d never seen before. And never, ever wanted to see again.

Mallory was too good for this world, too good, and too pure to be tainted by the harsh realities of what the world had come to.

“Fucking bitches,” he muttered as he sat back in his chair, one hand running over his bearded jaw as he regarded the woman that held his heart.

“You should come to bed with me,” Mallory whispered as her eyelids fluttered open. Her brown eyes met his as she lifted the edge of the blanket in invitation.

“You need your rest, sweetie,” Negan countered gently.

“I’ll sleep better if you’re with me.”

With a resigned sigh, Negan pulled his jeans off and crawled into bed next to her, being ever so careful so as to not touch her arm, or her cheek, or jostle her too much. He lay back and Mallory scooted close, resting her cheek against his bare chest. He lay perfectly still, his hand just barely resting against her shoulder.

“Is it weird?” Mallory whispered.

“What?”

“The fact that my hand…well what used to be my hand…is laying on your stomach,” Mallory giggled to herself. “Isn’t that funny?”

Negan’s brows drew together in confusion as he struggled to find the words to respond. Whatever he was gonna say died on his tongue as Mallory maneuvered herself over him and straddled him. She grinned as she rolled her hips against him, biting her lower lip.

“Mal…babe…what are you doing?”

Mallory rolled her hips against him again.

“What do you think I’m doing?” She leaned down, pressing her breasts flat against his chest as she attempted to capture his lips with hers. Negan resisted and pushed his head back down into the pillow.

“I don’t think so, sweetie. You need to rest, okay?” He brought his hands up and grasped her by her shoulders as he held her back.

“I need you to make love to me,” Mallory giggled again as she attempted to get close to him.

“Mallory, stop!” Negan held her more firmly.

Hurt flashed across Mallory’s face, her playful demeanor crumpling as she visibly deflated before him. He immediately felt regret, and he knew he’d somehow fucked something up.

“Mal, babe, listen, okay,” he began, but Mallory rolled off of him and scooted to the other side of the bed.

“Maybe you should tie me up?” Mallory offered sarcastically.

“What?” Negan sat up, his brows drawn together in angry confusion. Mallory jerked the blanket away from him and clumsily wrapped it around herself as she glared back at him.

“Nothing.” She turned away from him, her head bowed.

“No, not fucking nothing. Tell me what that fuckin’ means.”

Mallory lay down, facing away from him, and refused to talk. He could see by the jerky movements of her shoulders that she was crying.

“Mallory! Godamnit!” Negan crawled off the bed and made his way around to Mallory’s side. He fell down to his knees before her, and grabbed her good hand with his. She refused to look at him, but he saw the tears leaking from her clenched eyes.

“Mallory…sweetie…what’s wrong? What did I do?”

Mallory sniffled as her breath caught, but she didn’t speak. Her lip was turning white where she was biting it so hard, and Negan felt so incredibly helpless.

“Mal?” He reached over and tenderly rubbed the back of his fingers against her jaw, being careful not to touch her stitches. Her eyes popped open, watery and bloodshot.

“Did you sleep with Amber?”

“What? Hell fuckin’ no!” Negan scowled. “Is that what she fuckin’ said?”

“She had your scarf. Said you gave it her, after you’d…” Mallory’s voice cracked, and she clenched her eyes shut again.

“That fucking bitch, fuck her! You know I-”

“She said you were happy to be rid of me, and happy that I’d lost the baby. That you needed someone when I left, and you picked her,” Mallory’s voice was a strained whisper, punctuated by hitching breaths, and wayward tears. Her eyes opened again, and Negan felt his heart breaking at the realization.

“You believed her, didn’t you?” He asked, nearly whispering himself.

Mallory remained quiet, simply staring back at him. She didn't have to say a word; he knew immediately. It was written all over her face.

“You fuckin’ believed her. Why the fuck would you believe her?” Negan released her hand and stood up, shocked and in disbelief.

Not knowing what else to do, he walked back around to his side of the bed and dropped down, his hands cradling his head. Of all the things he’d tried to do, and of all the shit he’d gone through to get her back, to find out she had so little faith in him was more than just a little irritating. He was fucking pissed the fuck off. What did he have to do to prove to her that he wanted her, and only her? That he’d fucking die for her? When would it be enough? When was she going to run again?

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I think I need to go with Rick, back to Alexandria. I need time to think,” Mallory brokenly whispered.

Feeling like that was the last nail in the coffin, Negan lay back, his head on his pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. Mallory remained facing away from him, and it was almost like some great big chasm had physically opened up between them. They'd had disagreements before, had gone to bed mad at each other, and woken up feeling like there was some deep divide between them. They'd always worked it out, though. Someone one had always apologized, and they would make love, and it would all be good again. They'd never not been able to traverse it, had never had problems finding their way back to each other, and bridging that gap.

Only this time, it was too deep, and too wide, and he didn’t have the energy to cross it.

“You do what you need to do.” His voice was flat. He just didn’t care anymore…about anything or anyone. He just didn’t fuckin’ care, and he was so damn tired of all the bullshit.

Even Mallory.

He couldn’t do it all, and if she wasn’t willing to meet him halfway, then why bother? What the fuck did she want from him? His goddamned soul? He had given, and given, and given, and now he felt like he had nothing left. He was tired of being the boss, 'the asshole leader' outside this room, and Negan - the man Mallory claimed to love - in this room. He didn’t know who he was anymore, and he was fucking tired of having to play both roles. He was so goddamned tired of it all.

Aggravated, he sat up and pulled his jeans back on. He grabbed his boots, his shirt, and his jacket, and silently walked out of their room.

  

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not digging this chapter, but it is what it is. Sorry in advance.

Mallory lay in their bed, alone, and curled up around his pillow.  She inhaled deeply, trying to commit to memory his scent.  She was so full of self-pity and loathing and regret, and she wanted nothing more than to run after him and apologize. The selfish part of her wanted to run after him, to wrap her arms around him and tell him how much she loved him and how sorry she was. Tell him how stupid she had been.

The other part, the logical part, kept replaying Carol’s words over and over in her head.

_“I love you all here, I do, but I'd have to kill for you, and I can't.  I won't.  I can’t love anyone because I can’t kill for anyone.”_

Carol had uttered those words to Mallory before she’d left Alexandria, and they had stuck with Mallory ever since. It had never been more true to Mallory than when she was sitting in that barn, waiting to die. She knew that Amber and Alpha only wanted Negan and Rick, and these were two people that she cared deeply about. Negan was her heart and soul, while Rick had become almost a brother to her. It was because she loved them, and they loved her, that they would come after her. It was because of her that Carl had lost his eye.  

But mostly, it was because she loved Negan. It was because she loved him, and he loved her, that she needed to leave.  He was weaker when he was with her, and she put him in danger. History had proven that, and you could only play Russian Roulette so many times before your number got rung.

Maybe she would get stronger if she could put some distance in between them, and maybe Negan would realize that he was better off without her. Hell, she was a liability now more than ever, what with her missing a hand. _Amber couldn’t be more right about that..._  

She looked down at her nub and grimaced as reality hit her again.

There were moments when she could still feel her fingers, when she would swear her hand was still there.  It no longer hurt; now it just felt like nothing. There was no way to describe it other than _nothing_.  She felt that lump in her throat again when she realized her ring was gone, and she would never get it back.  Maybe it was fitting, that she would lose her ring.  It was almost symbolic in a way.  With her good hand, she wiped at her face as she snuggled down deeper into the blankets.

 _Why did it hurt so bad to do the right thing?_ she thought to herself.  Deep inside, she really believed Negan had never touched Amber, much less any of the other women.  She trusted him implicitly when they were together - he’d never given her reason not to.   _But_ …she _had_ left him, and left him at a vulnerable time, and for a long time.  It would only stand to reason to think that he might have turned to someone else in her absence. Was he supposed to wait forever for her to maybe, possibly come back?  That was completely unreasonable, and she knew that.  She knew that. 

Still, just the thought of him being with Amber hurt her so badly.  Amber who was always quick on her feet, and ruthless in the way she handled walkers.  Amber who had volunteered to go on runs so many times, and Amber who could handle herself out in the open, out beyond the safe walls of the compound.  Mallory knew she could never compete with someone like Amber, not in this world.  Mallory knew she’d only been surviving up until the moment she found Negan in that building, and she probably wouldn't have lasted much longer had she not stumbled upon him that day.  She knew she was close to being dangerously lost, and probably close to dying; finding Negan had saved her.

She giggled a little when she remembered their first "meeting". He was a jerk that day, and he cussed her like a sailor as she dragged him to safety, but something told her underneath that tough exterior was a strong, gentle man. He alternated between cussing her repeatedly, and begging and pleading with her to let him die peacefully.  That day, though, Mallory had found her reason to live, and it was him.  For the first time in a long time, she had felt a purpose again.   He’d given her a reason to live back when she wanted to give up so very badly.

_Her saving him had ultimately saved her._

So maybe that was why it was so hard to give up now? To let him go, when all she wanted to do was be with him.  She knew logically that it had all been an illusion, a dream, that she could stay safely tucked behind these walls as if the world hadn’t gone to shit outside them. To stay home and play house while Negan did all the heavy lifting. It wasn’t fair to him, and she knew it.  He probably knew it, and soon he would become resentful. Just like Amber said, she was useless, and relied on Negan too much for everything. She imagined he still resented her for losing their baby, although he’d never said it. _He had to, right?_

She knew Rick was intending on staying another day so that Carl could have more time to heal, and she would just leave with Rick and go back to Alexandria.  It was simple there.  She felt like she had a purpose there.  

Ultimately, though, she didn't love anyone in Alexandria the way she loved Negan.  It would be safer for Negan if she wasn't here, hindering him.  

 


	32. Chapter 32

Outside the compound, Negan paced angrily.  He felt like destroying something, someone… _anything_ …to get his mind off the fact that Mallory wanted to leave him again. He walked around the edge of the building and along the fence line, out of sight from the others, and kicked a trash can over.  Frustrated, he angrily kicked at the garbage as it fell around his feet.  He was so fucking stupid!

“God fucking damnit!” He kicked the trash can again, scattering the trash even more.  He paced, hands on hips as he tried to figure out what to do.

_He should forbid her from going, that’s what he should d_ o.

_Just forbid it, and force her to stay here._

“Yeah,” he muttered to himself as he wearily walked over to the wall of the compound and slid down it.  His elbows rested on his knees as he sat alone.

He didn’t know what he was expecting from her this morning.  Open arms maybe?   _A thank you?  An I love you?_   He knew what he was _not_ expecting, and that was for her to accuse him of sleeping with that nasty bitch Amber, and then telling him she was fucking leaving again.  That was most certainly not on his fucking radar.  He couldn’t force her to stay with him, though.  He knew that _would not_ fucking go over well with her. Mallory was not the type of woman that would just go along because he said so.  

_Not Mallory._

Mallory was different.  She marched to the beat of her own drum, and defied convention.  Mallory believed that by doing good you created good, and she believed that it would always come back to reward you.  Mallory had somehow managed to maintain bits and pieces of who he assumed she was before, and that was why he loved her so much.  She would have made an excellent doctor, he knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.  She still saw good in the world, and in other people. _She saw good in him._  She believed in right and wrong, and she made sure he knew that.  Without her, God only knows what he would be out there doing.  

Before her, he'd been wild, all the power gained from running a large camp of people having quickly gone to his head.  Especially after coming from the pre-outbreak world that he used to live in down in suburbia.  It was night and day, the man he'd become since the world ended.   Once the outbreak happened, he’d had his fair share of women along the way to becoming the leader of the Saviors, especially back in the early days.   _You didn’t get popular by hanging in the back_.  He'd become a politician by all accounts, and he had followers.  A whole damn lot of them - men, women, and children.  All those women, though, could never hold a candle to Mallory.  The way he could force them to do things, to bend to his will, he could never, ever do with her.  Hell, he could tell the men out in the compound to jump, and he was fairly certain they’d ask how high.

Yeah. He knew exactly what Mallory would do if he told her she had to stay, that he was forbidding her from leaving.  

She would look up at him with that smirk, her pert nose wrinkled in displeasure, and hands on hips as she defied him.  She had done the exact opposite of everything he’d ever told her to do, to include the day she’d found him out on the road. He’d gotten separated from his men, and he’d fucked up and gotten injured when a pane of glass had fallen down on him. He cut his leg up pretty bad - still had the scars - and was at the point where he’d accepted he was either going to die or get eaten by an undead fuck.  

He’d accepted his fate, and he was ready to go that day.  

It was just by chance that Mallory had come along and caught sight of him.  He had wanted to die that day, and he’d begged her to let him be, to let him die in peace, but she’d stubbornly refused.  Tiny as she was, she’d dragged him inside the building and barricaded it from walkers.  She stayed with him for the next few days, not knowing who or what he was.  She had single-handedly nursed him back to health…and given him a reason to live.  He absolutely believed that he'd fallen in love with her that very first day he saw her, and although she held him at bay for months, she eventually caved and admitted her feelings for him, too.  She was the answer to the prayer he hadn't found, the answer to his silence... _she was his sound._  

He loved her too much.

With a defeated sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled the gold band out, cradling it gently in his palm.

Such a tiny little thing, so bright, and shiny, and out of place in such a dark world.

_Kinda like his love for Mallory._

He stared at the gold band in his hand.  Maybe she was better off in Alexandria.  She had friends there, and she knew that Rick and his group cared for her.  She had Carl to help with, and she knew Rick had a baby, and that woman had her baby.  He still wasn't sure where Mallory was at on losing their baby, and a part of him thought that maybe being around Grimes' kids would help her heal.  Alexandria was nice compared to the coldness of the Sanctuary.  It looked like a city, and people were normal, and tried to go about normal lives for the most part.  Mallory would flourish there, where she wouldn't here.   

Still...

He was selfish, and he didn't want to let her go.  

 


	33. Chapter 33

  
**It had been almost 4 months...**

_4 months since she’d left The Sanctuary and Negan. 4 months since she’d arrived in Alexandria, having ridden back with Rick and Carl when they'd left that day.  She hadn’t even said goodbye to him;  she’d just left and not looked back.  Even though her heart was breaking, she'd gone and left him, and gone back to Alexandria._

_4 months since she’d talked to him...seen him...touched him…_

_He'd not come back to Alexandria since then, and she'd not gone out, so she hadn't seen him in all that time.  She only knew he was okay by hearsay from the scouts that went out, but nobody had directly dealt with him.  She wondered if he was eating, if he was sleeping, if his hair had gotten grayer.  Did he think about her?  Did he hate her?  Surely he must, right?  Why wouldn't he hate her, after everything she'd done to him?_

“Mallory?”

Mallory blinked a few times, clearing her head of the images and memories, and turned to face her friend.  Leaned up against the porch column, Maggie stared back at her. 

    

“You gotta tell him, okay? It’s the right thing to do, hun,” Maggie nodded emphatically. Smiling gently, she came to stand before Mallory, and placed a gentle hand on Mallory's shoulder in encouragement.  

“I know it is, Mag, it’s just hard, you know?” Mallory looked away, off into the distance as she blinked back tears.  She was always crying lately.  A damn bird could sing and she would start crying!

“I know it is. But, he deserves to know, don’t you think?”

“I know, I know,” Mallory reluctantly agreed.  She stared out over the porch railing, out over the empty fields, and wondered why this was all so hard for her.  Everything in her was screaming to go back to him.  That's what she wanted more than anything in the whole world, but the thought of going back was beyond terrifying for her.   _What if he didn't want her back?_

“I can take you, or Rick can, or whatever you wanna do, sweetie.” Maggie gently continued. “I would say he can come here, but I’m not sure I could convince him to. Rick won’t go for that, I’m sure of it.”

“No, no. I’ll go to him… _if I go_ -”

“When you go,” Maggie gently corrected her.

“ _When I go,_ you’re right.” Mallory sighed and wrapped her hoodie tighter about her shoulders. “I have to go, I know.”  

“You _need_ to go, Mallory. I know I’m pushing you - _I know we’re all pushing you_ \-  but it’s the right thing to do,” Maggie reiterated her point, gentle ever still in that way that only Maggie could be. 

“I’m just scared you know?” Mallory admitted as a tear overflowed and rolled down her cheek.  She wiped it away quickly, ashamed once again at how quick her emotions overwhelmed her.   _Scared was an understatement._  She was terrified of what his reaction would be.  After all this time had passed, and all that had changed since then...he had every reason to reject her, and rightly so. 

“I know you are, but this is different, okay?” Maggie wrapped her arms around Mallory’s shoulders and hugged her tight. “Things are different this time, sweetie.”

Mallory sniffled, but said nothing. 

"You have me, and Denise, and you have Rick and Carl, and Michonne, and even Daryl.  Things are different this time."  Maggie kissed Mallory on top of her head before releasing her friend. 

"What if he doesn't want me back?" Mallory whispered out loud, giving voice to her greatest fear.   _What if he didn't want her back?  What then?_

Maggie snorted in clear disbelief, and moved to stand before Mallory.  Maggie looked down, and Mallory followed her gaze.  

"You're having his baby, silly.  Of course he'll want you back!"  Maggie reached out and placed the palm of one hand against Mallory's growing baby bump.  Maggie grinned again as she cupped Mallory's rounded tummy, the skin getting tauter every day as Mallory's pregnancy progressed.  

"That's why I'm worried," Mallory admitted.  

She lightly caressed her stomach with her good hand, and tried to tamp down the feelings of unease at Negan's possible reaction to her keeping such a secret.  By her estimates, she was nearly past the point of when she'd miscarried before, but her anxiety was still overwhelming at times.  She felt her heart rate speed up with dread as she thought about what had happened before, back at The Sanctuary when she'd lost their son.  How Negan's heart had been broken, how her heart had been broken.  How she'd broken them apart time and time again when she'd run away.   _If she failed again..._

" _Don't_." Maggie looked up and shook her head from side to side, clearly reading what was going on inside Mallory's head.  "Don't do that.  It's different this time.  Things are settled down, we have doctors, and we have medicine that you didn't have the first time.  Everything's going to be fine, and you are gonna have a baby, and we'll raise our babies together, okay?"  

Maggie cupped Mallory's cheeks, forcing Mallory to look up at her.

"Everything will be fine this time, Mal." 

Mallory nodded in agreement, forcing herself to at least try to buy into Maggie's enthusiasm and optimism.  It was a hard sell, though, and as they walked back into the house, Mallory couldn't help but feel anxious yet again at the future.  She made her way into her room, closed the door behind her, and wearily sank down on her bed.  

_She'd left him...again._

And not only had she left him, but she'd left him after he'd risked near-certain death to go save her.  Rick had told her the story about how Negan had pretty much single-handedly pulled off the rescue of her and Carl.  How he'd killed the leader of those god-awful Whisperers while still tied up, and how he'd organized the Saviors to come at just the right moment.  Rick had told her how she'd reacted to him, and how hurt Negan was by her actions afterwards.   _How she'd rejected him._  She was still ashamed about that, and her only explanation was all the stuff that Amber had told her - combined with the shock - had caused her to behave that way.  God, she hated herself for that! He did not deserve that, not at all.  Hell, she hadn't even thanked him for saving her!  

Mallory lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, trying to force herself to relax.  She knew she couldn't afford to be stressed out, not when she'd already miscarried before.  Her right hand traveled down to her growing stomach, and she couldn't help the smile that ghosted at her lips.  She would swear she was feeling the baby already, and she continued to marvel at the fact that she'd gotten pregnant so soon after miscarrying.  It was a miracle, plain and simple, and she needed to do everything in her power to not mess this one up.  Nothing else mattered but making sure this pregnancy went full-term, and the baby was safe.  That was all that mattered. 

Even if Negan wouldn't have her back, she would at least have a piece of _him_.  

A piece of _them_ \- a living, breathing embodiment of a time when they loved each other, and nothing else mattered but the two of them.  

 She reached up, and with the forearm of her left arm, she swiped the tears off her cheeks, and raked in a deep, calming breath of air.  She had to calm down and be grateful for what she had...

 _...even if it wasn't everything she wanted_.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been lost lately with this fic. I hope this works, and makes sense. I'm really struggling with these two, although I know what I want for the ending, I just can't get them there lol!


	34. Chapter 34

 

 

     

Negan wearily climbed the steps and headed back up to his room.  Another day, another bone-breaking day of work.  Tomorrow he would repeat it. Repeat it, day after day, until he couldn’t anymore.

It was the only thing that kept him sane, and he knew if he quit, he’d surely lose his mind.  He chuckled to himself at that thought... _his mind was about all he had left, and even that he wasn't sure of._

He opened the door to his room, and dragged himself inside.  He kicked off his boots, pulled off his shirt, and unbuckled his belt on the way to his desk. Once there, he slumped down into the old leather chair, causing it to creak and groan under his weight.

His head was pounding.  He had to be dehydrated. He knew he wasn’t eating properly, and he was most certainly drinking too much fucking whiskey, but who the fuck really cared anymore?

Frowning, he reached over and grabbed the bottle of old Jack Daniels, and took a swig directly from the bottle. It stung his parched throat, and he winced as it burned it’s way down into his stomach. The warmth started spreading, working it’s way into the nooks and crevices of his body, seeming to soothe aches, and calm racing thoughts along the way. 

Another sip, this one longer.  

More warmth, and that delicious fuzziness that started to creep up on him.

A few more, and he’d be just this side of drunk, and he could finally find some peace in sleep.

He snorted, knowing that was complete bullshit.

Even in sleep, he still saw _her_ face.  She haunted his dreams, and gave fuel to his nightmares.  Sometimes he had happy dreams of her, but for the most part, they were terrifying movies that he couldn’t shut off, and each time they played the same thing on repeat:

_Mallory was the one lying there on the floor of that barn - not Amber. He was too late, and she’d already had her throat cut. He could see the dark blood as it seeped out from under her chin. He could see the light in her beautiful brown eyes fade as her life left her body. Each and every time, he was seconds too late. **Seconds.** No matter what he did, he was always too late, and just as her beautiful eyes faded into that dull, blueish-gray of the undead, he would wake up, screaming out her name as he clawed for air._

It never failed.

It was why he was scared to death to close his eyes at night, and why he drank himself into oblivion damn near every day.  

That was fucking funny in and of itself right there:  by his guesstimate, he'd say he was either 49 or 50 -- _kinda hard to keep track of birthdays now, and really what was the point? --_  and here he was, slipping down into alcohol addiction when alcohol was hard as fuck to find.  He turned the bottle around in his hand, trying to focus on the dark, amber liquid inside the bottle.  What would he do when the alcohol ran out?  What would he turn to next? 

_Another sip..._

“Fuck me,” Negan jumped, nearly dropping the bottle as a knock came at the door.  A glance down at his watch told him it was well after 9, so whoever the fuck was bothering him better have a damn good reason.

“Come in!” he barked as he took another swig of the whiskey.  The door opened, and Stephen stepped in. Negan sighed, but felt some of his ire leave as the young man closed the door behind him, and headed over to his boss's desk.

“Sorry to bother you sir, but we’ve got an issue.”

“What the fuck now?” Negan rubbed the spot between his eyes with his fingers.

“We’ve got some new people that just showed up this evening. They seemed to check out for the most part, so they're in the guest area at the moment. We're having some problems with the border fence on the far west side of the property. And,” Stephen looked down at his notepad as he recounted the issues, “we need to either convert the other facility into housing, or we're going to have to double-bunk some of our people to make room. There’s complaints of space and not enough room.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Negan squinted up at Stephen in aggravation.  Stephen lifted his chin just imperceptibly, although he at least had the wherewithal to take a small step back.  

“No sir. Not kidding at all.”

“First thing, stop calling me fucking sir, okay? Haven’t I fucking told you that eighty-fucking-million times? For fucks sake, you’re about 5 motherfucking minutes younger than me!”

Stephen nodded in understanding, but did not speak. He was one of Negan’s most trusted men, but he knew not to press his luck when his boss was like this. His eyes accidentally landed on Lucille as she sat forlornly in the corner; his blue eyes quickly snapped back to Negan.

“And secondly, this is not some fucking resort we’re running here! If we have space, we can take these homeless fucks in, but if we don’t? Then they can go fuck off down the road and find somewhere fucking else to go!” Negan shot to his feet, but stumbled as he tangled in the old rug under his feet, and in an instant, Stephen was at his side, gripping his elbow to support his boss.

“Take your fuckin’ hands off me,” Negan quietly ordered.  Stephen immediately let go, but continued watching his boss cautiously.  Negan made his way - _stumbled_ _actually_ \- over to his bed and dropped down on the edge, the bottle of whiskey still tightly gripped in his hand.   Stephen watched with displeasure as Negan took another long sip of the dark amber liquid.

_He was worried about Negan._  

He knew that probably sounded insane, but he was. Negan had become sort of an uncle to him -- a father-figure even -- and Stephen was nothing if not loyal to those he cared about.  And in a twisted, default way, he cared about Negan.  Since that stuff had gone down with Negan’s woman, the man had not been the same, though.  He was drinking too much, and not sleeping, or eating enough. He went out on mission after mission, when he had plenty of men that could go.  He worked himself to the bone everyday, and Stephen was worried about his boss’s health.

 A man could only take so much before he crashed and burned; Negan was teetering on the edge.

He watched as Negan tilted the bottle up, and took another long drink. The older man dragged a hand across his lips and grunted as he lay back against his pillows; Stephen couldn’t help but feel a bit of unease at Negan’s actions.  

“You gonna stand there like a fuckin’ idiot or can you fuckin’ leave?” Negan huffed as he threw his forearm over his eyes.

Stephen gritted his jaw, knowing Negan’s comments and actions were the alcohol speaking. It stung a little, and Negan could definitely be an asshole, but Stephen knew where he stood with the man.

“Just fuckin’…” Negan slurred out before the bottle fell from his hands and crashed to the floor.  Negan jerked at the noise, but did not wake up as the whiskey quickly spread across the floor and under the bed. 

Stephen quietly moved to clean it up, ensuring that he got all the glass so that Negan wouldn’t step on it in the morning.  He wiped the area clean with a rag, and couldn’t control his grin when he heard his boss start snoring.  To everyone outside these four walls, Negan was their leader, the man that never fucked up, and the man that would rain hell down on anyone who stepped in his path.  Negan was just, and he was fair by most standards, but he was absolutely not the one to fuck with.  He was their leader, the big man with the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.  The leader of The Saviors. 

_Now he was snoring._

“Mallory…” Negan moaned, drawing Stephen’s eyes back to his boss, his smile erased as he witnessed his boss's torment.  Negan’s fists had balled at his side, and Stephen could see a fresh sheen of sweat had broken out on the older man’s forehead. He thrashed agains the bed, his body rigid as he fought off whatever he was battling in his nightmare.

“Don’t! No…Don’t!” Negan jerked again, his fists pounding against the bed furiously.  Stephen waffled back and forth with wanting to wake Negan up, to free him from his nightmare, but in the end, he decided to just let his boss be.  

There was nothing he could do, and Negan would probably try to beat the shit out of him, what with being so drunk and all.  Best to just leave him alone. 

With one final look to make sure he'd gotten all the glass, Stephen quietly exited the room, locking the door behind him.  Negan was still thrashing about, still moaning inside his room, and Stephen sighed deeply as he headed back down the hall and to his own quarters.  

What he wouldn't give to able to find that woman and bring her back to Negan.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...it has come to my attention that I am falling woefully short in writing Negan in character. I struggled with this for the past few days, and today I was ready to scrap this story. However, I spoke with some internet friends, and decided against that. I'm explaining my OOC-ish Negan by saying in my head (and in this story) he's older. Wiser. A little less dickish, if you will. If that doesn't float your boat, they're are about 23 other stories on A03 alone that are probably 1000% better than mine, and I say that with complete truth. I'm gonna finish this story, and write it how I see fit, and how it floats my boat. Life is way too short and my life is way too serious from 0800-1700, Monday thru Friday, for me to worry about writing a character wrong. This is how I decompress, and how I sort through the madness in my head. It works for me. If it doesn't for you, you can always keep scrolling. Either way, I thoroughly dislike getting anonymous hate messages in my Tumblr messages, all over a story invented in my head. 
> 
> For all you peeps that like the story, thanks for sticking around. Love you big XOXO


	35. Chapter 35

“You ready?” Rick asked as he sat down on the porch swing beside Mallory. Mallory shrugged, not sure what she was, but _ready_ was most likely not it.

Today was the day she was going back to The Sanctuary.  It was just after dawn, and Mallory had been up for most of the night, worrying over any and everything she could possibly worry over.  When the sun had finally risen, and she couldn’t take lying in bed any longer, she made her way out onto the porch.  Her nerves were frayed, and she needed a few moments of quiet before the trip. She’d forgotten that Rick liked to get up at the ass-crack of dawn, so avoiding him was gonna be near impossible.  As soon as he’d stepped out of his house next door and seen her, it was too late for her to escape back inside.

“You’re not in a talkative mood this morning, are ya?” Rick asked with a knowing smirk.

“That obvious?” Mallory stared down at her fingernails in annoyance, cursing the fact that she couldn’t do anything to make them look better. They were peeling, and cracking, and she knew it was due to the pregnancy.  It was little things like this that made her want to pull her hair out, and even though she knew it was something so stupid and mundane given the world they lived in, she just couldn’t _not_ be aggravated about it. It was just one more thing that put her in a bad mood.  Hell, she seemed to stay in a bad mood lately.  

“You know, I don’t care for him. I probably never will-”

“Rick…” Mallory gritted her teeth in warning, but Rick placed a hand against her knee and continued.

“But…you love him. I know he loves you. That man was going insane over you, Mal.” Rick squeezed her knee before releasing her. “He probably would have taken out that whole camp if that’s what he had to do to find you.”

Mallory remained silent, doing her best not to scream in frustration.  She was so tired of hearing how much Negan loved her, and how much he would do for her. All that did was remind her of how stupid she was, of how short-sighted she had been when she ran out on him. She was sick of Maggie telling her this, over and over, and over and over and over.  Ever since she'd found out she was pregnant, it was as if Maggie was trying to right the world through Mallory.  And now she had to hear it from Rick-- _of all people_.   If Rick was trying to help, it wasn’t working.

“So, before, when I tried to…uh…kiss you, I don’t know how to say this, but it was never like that, Mal. I know that now. I was trying to make something out of nothing, and I know that now.”

“This is seriously like the most awkward thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” Mallory muttered to herself.

“Please, let me finish, okay?” Rick chuckled as he squeezed her knee again.

Mallory huffed impatiently.

“What I had with Lori…with my wife…was something, you know? What I now have with Michonne? It’s everything, Mal.” Rick’s voice grew somber as he spoke of the woman he loved. “Before all this stuff happened, Michonne would be the last person I could see myself with, and probably her with me.”

“What is the point, Rick?” Mallory grunted again, but her tone was softer now.  She knew Rick worshipped the ground Michonne walked on, and she couldn't be happier for her friends.  

“My point is this, Mal: you don’t get to pick and choose when it’s the right time anymore. We don’t have tomorrow to look forward to, and we don’t have next week, and we don’t have next year, you know? All we have is today. This hour. _This minute_. That’s all we have.” Rick wiped a hand over his stubbled chin. “Maggie’s father, Hershel?  He once told me long ago that everyday we risk our lives just breathing.  Just stepping off this porch, we are risking our lives. Everyday we risk our lives.”

Rick turned to Mallory, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

“So now, the only thing you can choose is what you’re risking it for, Mallory.” Rick shrugged. “That’s it, you know? Either you do or you don’t; there’s no in-between anymore.”

Lips trembling with emotion, Mallory reached down and rubbed her good hand over her swollen belly.  The ever-constant reminder of how things had changed so drastically...

“What if he doesn’t want me?” she whispered, giving voice yet again to the fear that was threatening to consume her and make her change her mind about going to see him.

“He will,” Rick reassured her gently. He reached over and tilted her chin up, forcing her to stare at him through big, tearful eyes. “He will.”

"I'm different, Rick," Mallory pulled her face from him and looked down at her lap again. She was so ashamed of who she was... _whoever she was._  "All that stuff in the barn, losing my ha-...hand...it all did something to me, Rick."

'We've all done that stuff, Mallory.  You did what you had to do to survive, okay?"  Rick leaned down so that he could meet her eyes.  "You'll come back from this.  You will.  We all do.  It's us and the dead, okay?  We survive this by pulling together - not apart."

Mallory hitched in a deep, shaking breath as she tried to let Rick's words sink in.  It was just so, so hard.  She knew she was in a weird head-space. She knew that was an understatement of monumental proportions.  She knew that what she'd done to Amber was driven by more than just a need to survive.  She knew that she'd let Amber's words get to her, and that revenge and hate and jealousy were all part of why she'd done what she'd done to the former Savior.  She knew all this... _she just didn't know what to do with that knowledge._

She'd never killed a living person before.  Everyone she'd ever killed had all been walkers.  

Amber was the first living, breathing, person that she'd killed, and it just didn't sit right with her.  It was like she'd crossed over into some unknown part of her psyche and she couldn't reconcile with it.   Before the outbreak, she'd been in the business of saving lives;  she'd taken Amber's without thinking twice.  In fact, she was ashamed to admit that she might have taken some pleasure in killing the woman.  

What did that mean for the future?

_More importantly, what did that say about her as a person?_

Neagn had always said she was the good in a world gone to shit.   _She was his bright spot,_  he'd said.  He always talked about her as if she was something good, something to be proud of.  

 _What was she now?_  

She was naive, that's what she was.  And sheltered.  Sheltered and naive, and yes, she had been riding on Negan's coattails for far too long.  It had never been more painfully obvious than now. If it weren't for Negan, if it weren't for Rick's group, she'd never have survived in this world on her own.  

She was absolutely as pathetic and useless as Amber had said, and that was a hard truth to swallow when she'd been so oblivious for so long.  

She felt her heart speed up as her thoughts threatened to overwhelm her.  It was getting harder by the day to control her mounting anxiety and failing mental health: the intrusions, the nightmares, the feeling as if she were going to have a heart attack at any moment.  Of feeling trapped inside her own brain, with no escape.  She was going insane.  Completely and utterly insane, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. Nobody understood her, and she felt more than a little ashamed to admit what she was feeling.  Everyone told her it was hormones, or that she would get better once time had passed.  

_Nobody understood her, and nobody listened, not really._

Nobody would understand the extremes swinging back and forth in her mind, from feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame for what she'd done,  to then in the very next moment feeling completely and utterly gratified at having punished Amber.  Even she didn't understand it.  

All she wanted to do was get in a car and run away, but where the hell could she go?  Now that she was pregnant, she was even more trapped, and even more helpless.  The pregnancy was an even harder thing to think about, if she even made it to delivery.  What kind of mother would she be? 

"Mal?" Rick grasped her good hand, and pulled it tightly against his thigh.  "You in there?" 

Mallory nodded, but didn't speak.  She just barely registered the warmth of his hand enveloping her much-too cold one.

"You'll get through this.  We all do.  We all have, and you will, too." Rick continued, and Mallory pretended to agree with him.  

"I'm gonna go check the truck, make sure we're good to go.  We'll leave in about an hour, okay?"  Rick leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead before taking his leave.  

Mallory sat alone on the porch, consumed with thoughts of inadequacy, and fear, and grief, and everything else you could think of.  She felt as if her brain was going to explode.  She nervously wrung her hands together as her foot tapped in tune with her anxiously-beating heart.   She was going to lose it. She could feel it, the impending sense of dread just barely kept at bay by a tenuous willpower.  It was like a dark shadow, lurking along the edge of her fraying sanity, moving and darting about as it sought entrance.  

It waited.  

It waited for a moment of weakness, for a chink in her armor, and then it would sneak in and consume her.  Just as it had done before, it would do again. 

And then what would she do?  What would she do when she finally cracked? She couldn't go to a therapist, and she'd be hard-pressed to find antidepressants or anti-anxiety pills.  

"You ready?"  Daryl asked as he walked up the steps,  his deep gravelly voice dragging her back into reality. 

"Yeah," Mallory whispered as she stood up.  She kept her eyes on the ground, for Daryl was one of those people she couldn't lie to.  There was something about him, something deep inside, that dragged the truth out of her. If his eyes met hers, he'd know something was completely off with her. 

"You need help?"  Daryl asked as he followed her back into the house.  The screen door slammed behind them, sounding way too loud in the early morning.  

"No, no, I have everything," Mallory headed to the couch and grabbed her small back, her intent to sling it over her shoulder.  Before she could, Daryl grabbed it from her and slung it over his.  She looked up at him for just a fraction of a second.  

"Ya' alright?" Daryl cocked his head as he studied her.

"Yeah.  Just a little tired," Mallory hedged as she quickly made her way back over to the door.  Daryl followed.  A few moments later, she was loaded up in the SUV, along with Daryl, Rick, and Morgan.  Abraham and Michonne would stay behind to watch over Alexandria.   

As they made their way out of the gates, Mallory dug her fingernails into the skin of her palms, trying desperately to distract herself from the feelings of dread.  She dropped her head against the seat and closed her eyes as Rick maneuvered them down the street and towards Negan.  

There was no turning back now.

 


	36. Chapter 36

A few hours later, Rick and the group pulled up to the gates of The Sanctuary. It had been a while since he’d been here, and it was safe to say he didn’t miss it. Not one bit. He put the car in park and unbuckled.

“Anything weird happens, take off, you hear?” He calmly instructed Daryl as he opened the door. Daryl nodded in understanding, and scooted over the seat to take his spot behind the wheel as Rick climbed out.

As expected, armed guards watched with weapons raised from the towers along the fence line. Rick closed the door to the vehicle, hands raised in a show of peace.

“I’m here to see Negan. We’re,” he looked back the SUV, “here to see Negan.”

“Rick Grimes, right?” one of the guards called.

“Yeah. We just wanna talk to Negan,” Rick called again. He looked around, his eyes landing on a few wandering walkers a few 100 feet back, slowly approaching.  He sure hoped they could speed this along...

“We’re gonna pull you inside. After the gate closes, get everyone out of the vehicle. Bring all your weapons out,” the guard instructed as he nodded at one of the other men on watch.

A few moments later, the gate loudly rattled as it was pushed open.  Rick followed alongside the SUV as Daryl drove it inside, and the gate was closed securely behind them.  Daryl turned the SUV off. 

“I’m gonna need all your weapons,” the head guard instructed again.  Seeing Rick’s scowl, he explained, “It’s protocol.”

“Yeah, okay,” Rick pulled his Colt out and reluctantly handed it to the man.   Daryl climbed out of the vehicle and handed over his bow and knife, and Morgan followed suit, handing over his staff and knife.

Mallory remained in the vehicle.

“Who’s that?” the lead guard motioned towards the lone passenger still inside the SUV.

“She’s here to see Negan, too,” Rick answered as he made his way over to the right rear passenger door.  Mallory sat motionless, still buckled, and staring down at her hands folded in her lap.  Rick thought how tiny she looked, wrapped up in an oversized jacket and her beanie pulled down low.  He had hoped she might perk up, talk even, as they approached Negan, but she'd become more withdrawn it seemed.  

“Mal, sweetie, you need to get out, okay?” Rick coaxed her gently as he pulled open the door. Mallory nodded, but did not speak as she crawled out of the vehicle. Rick gripped her hand in his and led her back over to the guard.

“Who’s this?” the guard asked again, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Mallory just barely looked up, her face mostly hidden by the hood of her jacket.

_“Mallory?”_ a voice called from the back, drawing everyone’s eyes to the man approaching the group. “Is that you?”

Carson came forward, his glasses perched on his nose in his usual fashion and a timid smile on his face.  Mallory nodded, and gave Carson an equally-timid smile in return.

“Yeah, it’s her,” Rick answered for her. “Where’s Negan?” His eyes scanned the growing crowd, wondering where their leader was. Another man stepped forward, and Rick recognized him from the night they’d rescued Mallory and Carl from those crazy-ass Whisperers.

“I’m Stephen,” the man answered Rick’s unspoken question as he held his hand out in greeting.  Rick nodded as he shook the man’s hand.

“He’s out on a mission,” Stephen continued. “Should be back before nightfall, though.” His blue eyes landed on Mallory, scrutinizing her. So this was Negan’s woman, the one who'd gone missing. He’d seen her briefly before, but he’d just gotten here right around the time Mallory had taken off, so he really never knew her. And he'd seen her that night of the rescue, but she'd been injured pretty bad.  All he knew was that Mallory had caused a lot of grief for his boss, and that didn’t really sit well with him at the moment.  His eyes narrowed further as he stared down at her.

Mallory blanched under his gaze, and looked back down at the ground. This place used to be her home — _she knew these people_ —and yet she couldn’t feel more uncomfortable if she tried.

“We can take her to his - _to their_ \- room, and she can wait there for him, if she’d like,” Stephen offered quietly. Rick pulled Mallory up against his side as he wrapped his arm around her.

“Is that what you wanna do, Mal?” Rick asked her softly.

“I don’t know,” Mallory whispered, still looking at the ground.  She felt like an outsider here, and her cheeks bloomed with shame at all the fuss being made over her. This was not how she envisioned this going. _Where the hell was Negan anyway??_

“Look, I know this is a lot to ask, especially from us, but is there a way we can all wait for Negan to get back? Mallory’s had a rough go the past few months, and we’d all feel a little better if we could see that she was comfortable before we left.” Rick’s jaw hardened as he waited for Stephen’s response. The younger man stared back, obviously thinking through the request.

“I’m sure _Negan_ would appreciate it,” Rick continued his campaign on Mallory’s behalf.

“We won’t be any trouble,” Morgan offered as he stepped forward. “We just need to make sure she’s okay, and then we’ll head back.”

Stephen’s eyes moved over to Morgan as he continued contemplating what to do. He knew that Rick and Negan had worked out a deal - _a truce almost_ \- but they were certainly _not_ friends. He didn’t know if Negan would be pissed or not that Grimes and his people were here, when he wasn’t. His eyes moved back over to the woman at Rick’s side.

_What he did know,_ though,  was that if he were to let Mallory walk back out those gates, Negan would have his head.  He knew that surer than shit, and because of that, he knew he had no choice but to let them stay. _Damned if you do, damned if you don’t…_

“Fine. Carson, get these people a room so they can wait for Negan to return,” Stephen ordered, never taking his eyes off of Rick.

“I appreciate it.” Rick stated. Stephen raised one hand, stopping Rick from saying anything else.

“I’ll work with you as best as possible, Grimes, but make no mistake, we will do what we need to do to take care of our own.” Stephen’s lips had thinned out, indicating the seriousness of his warning.

Rick nodded in understanding, and he and his group followed Carson up into the compound where they would be put up until Negan came back.

 


	37. Chapter 37

“I think that’s them,” Daryl stated as he peered out the window of their room.

They’d been here for almost 11 hours, and the sun had set long ago as they’d waited for Negan to come back. Negan’s people couldn’t have been more gracious, though.  They’d been fed, and had been able to clean up somewhat. Mallory had even taken a shower, and had almost immediately fallen into an exhausted sleep on the bed.  She still wasn't speaking, though. 

“Yeah, they’re opening the gate,” Morgan confirmed as he too stared out the window.  He turned back to Rick. “Should we wake her up?”

Rick looked down at Mallory as she lay next to him on the bed.  She was wrapped up in her jacket again --  _she’d refused to take it off --_ and then the blanket, her good arm wrapped over his thigh as he sat next to her. He gently pushed some hair off her head.  Rick thought she looked better at least, as the color was seeming to return to her cheeks.

“Nah. I think we go to Negan, talk to him, and let him decide. They need to work this out between themselves.” Rick untangled himself from Mallory and slid off the bed. He pulled the blanket back over her and tucked her in. “Morgan, wanna stay here with her while Daryl and I go find Negan?”

Morgan nodded in agreement, and took a seat in the chair next to the bed. 

Just then, the door opened, and Stephen stepped inside. Rick held up a finger to his mouth, his free hand gesturing at Mallory’s sleeping form.

“Sorry,” Stephen quietly apologized. “Negan’s here.” HIs eyes landed on Mallory as she slept.

“Yeah, we saw. We’re not gonna wake her up. Morgan can stay with her until we can talk to Negan.” Rick tucked his shirt back into his jeans, and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Okay, this way,” Stephen jerked his head at the door, and Rick and Daryl followed him out into the hallway. They made their way through the maze of corridors,  down onto the lower floor, and finally outside. The noise steadily grew louder as they approached the compound grounds and the returning group.  

Rick’s eyes immediately landed on Negan. The tall, older man was ordering his people around, directing them as they unloaded the supplies from the back of the truck. He and Daryl held back as Stephen approached his boss, and started speaking.  A few moments later, Negan turned, his eyes landing on Rick.  Rick stood up a little taller, squaring his jaw in preparation for dealing with the leader of the Saviors.

“Well, what the fuck brings you here, Grimes?” Negan asked, his voice weary as he made his way over to Rick and Daryl.

Rick was a little bemused at Negan calling him Grimes, instead of Prick, or some other stupid ass name that he’d conjured up.  Negan was uncharacteristically mature this evening.

“Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere a little less noisy?”

“I don’t know, Rick.” Negan pushed his hair back off his forehead, looking around his camp before looking back down at Rick. “I’ve had a long-ass fucking day, and no offense, but hanging out with you is not on my fucking agenda.” He pointed at Daryl over Rick’s shoulder. _“Especially not him.”_

Daryl snorted under his breath, and looked away. 

“It’s about Mallory,” Rick hissed angrily as the Negan of old appeared. _Why did this man have to be such a hard-headed asshole all the time?_

Negan’s entire composure changed, his eyes widening and then narrowing again as he tried to get a grip on himself.  In that brief span of time, Rick knew he’d seen fear flash across Negan’s face, only for it to quickly be replaced with that mask that Negan was so fond of.  That mask that he presented to the world, that one that he used to try to convince everyone that he was in charge, and that he was so sure of his command.

Just as it had been that day they rescued Mallory, Rick knew it was all bullshit. All a facade that Negan used to convince everyone around him — _and maybe himself_ — that he had everything under control.

“Somewhere quiet?” Rick growled again. Negan nodded, and the three men made their way around the building, only stopping when they were concealed by the shadows.

“Is she alright?” Negan wasted no time getting to the point.

“She’s fine,” Rick answered. “She’s here, up in one of your rooms.”

Negan looked up, his eyes darting back and forth as if he could see through the brick and concrete to find Mallory’s exact location.

“She wanted us to bring her to you,” Rick continued. “It’s just me, Daryl, and Morgan. He’s up there with her still.”

Negan was silent, one large hand covering his mouth and chin as his other hand rested at his hip.  He was at a loss for words, and it was damn uncomfortable in front of Rick Grimes and his fucking dog.  His eyes darted over the building again, wondering just where she could be.  A million unanswered questions were running through his mind:  _Why wasn’t she out here with Rick? What was going on?_ _After all these months, she just shows up?_  

He turned, his eyes narrowed on Grimes again.

“Once we know she’s safe, we’ll leave,” Rick stated firmly.  He had not missed Negan’s suspicious look cast his way, and he was a bit aggravated at the insinuation in that look. 

“Oh you’re right about that, Grimes. You’re not going any-fucking-where until I know she’s okay."  Negan whistled softly, and before Rick and Daryl could react,  a small group of Saviors appeared and encircled them. 

"Oh this is rich," Daryl snorted derisively.  Rick just glared at Negan. 

"Take them to a different room," Negan ordered.  His eyes never left Rick's.  "Go get the other man from wherever Mallory is, and put him in with these two."

"Come on!  Go see for yourself that she's fine!" Rick struggled as one of the Saviors placed a hand at his shoulder. 

"Oh I will, Grimes. Fuckin' believe that.  Once I'm satisfied, then you can fuckin' leave."  Negan turned on his heel, leaving his men to deal with Grimes and Dixon.  

He didn't hear the curses that were thrown his way as the two men were forced off into another holding area.  Even if he did hear, he couldn't give a damn.  His mind was focused on one thing, and one thing only: finding Mallory and making sure she was okay.  Nothing else mattered. 


	38. Chapter 38

Upstairs, Mallory quietly sat up, the blanket wrapped firmly around her shoulders.  She was all alone now in the room, and it was much too quiet.  She wasn’t surprised in the least when Stephen and Terrence had come to collect Morgan earlier; it was only a matter of time.

_Negan was back._

It was almost as if she could feel the change in the air, could feel his very presence;  she knew he was somewhere in The Sanctuary.  When the men had come up earlier, Morgan had put up a bit of a fight, but Mallory had assured him it would be okay.  She knew how Negan operated, and frankly, she was surprised it had taken as long as it had.  As for it being _okay_ , she had no idea what she was in for. The Saviors had been mostly indifferent to her;   Stephen had again given her a look of suspicion, but Terrence had at least spoken to her.

“Negan will be with you shortly, ma’am,” Terrence had informed her with a smile as they exited the room. 

Mallory had smiled back, even though she was embarrassed at having other people involved in her issues.  It was this huge, giant production, and she didn’t miss all the stares from the members as she’d been taken upstairs earlier.  To say she was embarrassed was putting it lightly.  She could only imagine the rumors that were floating around.  

That embarrassment, though, was no match for the unease that roiled around in her stomach at the thought of seeing Negan. She didn’t have Rick as a buffer any longer; now it would just be her and Negan.  After all this time, and with everything that had changed, it would just be the two of them.

_Correction -- three of them._

She wrapped the blanket tighter around her waist, and rested the forearm of her left hand over her belly. The nub was healed now, the shiny end all that remained of her left hand. It was odd to think that in a few months, she might be cradling a child with an arm that had no hand. _How would that even work?_

She shook her head at herself and stood up again; her nerves were getting the best of her and sitting still was not cutting it. Dwelling on the loss of her hand was not something that she could yet address.  The noise from outside rose, and curious, she walked over to the window and peeked out from the curtain.

Down below, the yard was busy as usual.  Men and women alike were moving boxes from the back of the moving trucks, unloading load after load of supplies.  A few people she recognized, others were brand new.  It definitely seemed like the population had increased, and for that, she was thankful.  Hearing laughter, Mallory squinted as she tried to make out where the humor was coming from.  It was Karen, and Mallory grimaced when she realized it was one of the former wives. _Hell, she wasn't even sure if former was the correct term or not._  For all she knew, Karen and the others might have taken her place and warmed Negan's bed in her absence.  

 _"Stop it!"_ she hissed to herself.  She turned from the window, and desperately tried to push those thoughts out of her head, knowing it was a dead-end street.  Aggravated, she wandered around the room, doing her best to keep herself distracted.  She dug around in dresser drawers, looking for anything of use.  They were mostly empty, save for a few odd articles of clothing.  When she opened the closet, she smiled in relief.  

There, sitting on the top shelf, looking lonely and forgotten, was an old, dog-eared copy of _A Wrinkle in Time._   She stood up on her tip-toes and pulled it down, smiling with girlish delight;  it was one of her very favorite books as a child!  She clutched it to her chest and made her way back over to the far corner of the room, grabbing a pillow, and the blanket, from the bed along the way.   She dropped the pillow in the corner, and sat down on top of it, the blanket wrapped firmly about her shoulders and book in hand. 

For just a few moments - _at least -_ she hoped she could find a measure of peace in all the chaos.  

* * *

Negan turned on the water, and stepped in under the stream.  He hissed as the scalding water hit his skin, but the pain almost immediately turned to relief as the water worked itself into the knotted muscles of his shoulders and back. He stood there, standing under the hot flow of water for longer than he should, but he couldn’t help it.

 _He was terrified._  He didn’t want to admit that to himself, but the fuck if he wasn't.

He was fucking terrified to go up to that room, to see Mallory.  And he was doing every damn thing he could think of to delay their meeting.  He wanted to go - _no denying that_ \- but it didn’t change the fact that he was scared to do so.  

 _What would she say this time?_   It had been nearly 5 months he figured, since he'd seen her last.  Even though he hadn’t seen her yet, he knew that she changed; he was sure of it. _And him?_   Well, he’d gone and nearly turned into a damn alcoholic. _Tried to at least, but_ _alcohol was damn hard to come by nowadays..._

They were both changed, and honestly, he didn't know if he was up to going through this again with her. He was just about 100 percent sure that he couldn’t take her rejecting him again.  There was only so many times you could kick a dog before it bit you, and he was not in the mood to be kicked anymore.  

_Not now._

He was still fucking pissed off, too.  That hadn't abated at-fucking-all.  In fact, it might have gotten worse since she'd not only left with Rick Grimes, but now she had him bringing her back and forth.   _What the fuck was going on with those two?_  Angrily, he grabbed the soapy rag and ran it along his ribcage and up under his armpit.  Fucking Prick Grimes and his wonderful fucking oasis in the middle of fucking zombie land.   _Fuck him,_ Negan thought angrily.  

The water didn’t stay warm for long - _damn solar powered showers_ \- and the freezing cold stream sent him out of the stall long before he was ready.  That only added to his aggravation.  Annoyed, he jerked the towel off the nail on the wall, and wrapped it about his waist as he dried off.  He stalked across the hall to their room, and locked the door behind him. The cowardly part of him was thankful that he’d kept Mallory in that guest room rather than have her brought here to their room; at least he had a few more moments to get his bearing, to try to come up with some fucking plan.  He pinched the area between his eyebrows; he was so damn pissed off it was giving him a headache. 

A few minutes later found him sitting on the edge of his bed, an old bottle of whiskey in hand, as he contemplated what to do.  He lifted the cigarette to his lips,  wishing and praying that the alcohol and nicotine would calm his damn nerves, but thus far it wasn't helping.  One part of him said go to her. The other part said take this bottle of whiskey he was holding in his other hand and drink it down.  Just drink it down, and deal with it later.  He took another long drag on his cigarette.  

 

_Deal with her later._

He took a sip.  Hell, she’d made him wait all this time, she could wait too, right?  He took another sip, but grimaced as it tasted sour in his throat. He nearly spit it out as he set the bottle back down on his table and stood up.  The whiskey wasn’t gonna work tonight.  The cigarette wasn't gonna work tonight; he ground the remains out in the makeshift ashtray near his bed.  Nothing was gonna fucking work tonight.  

_Who was he fucking kidding?_

_He had to go to her._

He ran a hand through his hair, doing his best to push it back into something presentable, and shoved his feet into a pair of socks as he readied himself to go.

He couldn’t sleep in this damn building, not knowing that she was down the hall from him.  He had to at least see her,  to at least see that she was okay.  He carried his boots with him as he silently padded down the hallway towards her room.  His hair was still wet from the shower, and his shirt was sticking to the spots where he’d not quite dried off, but it was all irrelevant.  Once he stood before the door to the room, he felt his heart speed up in his chest, and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself.  He looked up and down the hallway, contemplating what to do.

_What could he fucking do?  Run back to his room like a chicken shit?_

"Fuck me," he muttered as he lifted his hand and turned the knob...

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

“Mallory?” Negan knocked softly as he opened the door to her room. His eyes darted to the bed, only to find it empty.

Mallory was standing near the window, looking down into the compound ground.  She turned around, a timid smile on her face.  Negan immediately thought that she was much, much too thin.  Even with a blanket wrapped around her, and all those clothes hiding her frame, he could see in her face how small she was. He felt anger rise in his chest at Grimes, but he tamped it down;  he’d deal with that asshole later.

“Hi,” she whispered, almost shyly.  

She wouldn’t meet his eyes but only for a moment, and quickly stared back down at the ground as she wrapped the blanket about her shoulders again. Her lips curved into a regretful frown as she thought about his appearance.  As handsome as he always was, he looked horrible. Tired and beat down, and miserable.  She felt the pangs of guilt yet again.

Feeling his earlier anger fizzle away, Negan closed the door behind him and walked towards her.  He was cautious, wary, and still a little afraid, truth be told.  He was almost expecting her to run past him and out the door, leaving him all over again.  While his anger was gone, he was still scared. _Scared._   He could feel himself trembling, and he squeezed his hands into fists, mentally chastising himself for being such a pussy.

“How are you?” Negan blurted out, only to shake his head at himself.  He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. “That sounds fuckin’ stupid, don’t it?”

“No, Negan, it doesn’t,” Mallory giggled a little.  She made her way back over and sat down on the bed.  Her eyes still wouldn’t meet his.

He found it unnerving, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

“Look, Mal, I don’t know what’s going on, and honestly—”

“I’m pregnant, Negan,” Mallory whispered softly.  She looked up at him, gauging his reaction, but looked down again just as quickly.

“Wha… _what?”_   Negan felt his knees begin trembling, and he just barely made it to the chair along the wall before he fell down.  He rubbed a shaky hand over his face as he tried to comprehend what Mallory had just said.  She didn’t look pregnant to him, not with all those clothes on.  He was finding it hard to breathe, and he forced himself to drag in a huge gulp of air.   _She didn't look pregnant._

Not hearing anything, Mallory looked up at him and caught him staring back at her. The look of disbelief -- _shock_ \-- on his face must have registered with her, because she smiled up at him and nodded again.

“About 5 months now, maybe a little less.”

“Is it…is it…you know, I don’t wanna ask,” Negan stumbled over his words, not sure how to ask the question that he needed an answer to.  It would surely gut him if he found out she was having someone else’s child.  That would completely destroy him.

“Is it yours?” Mallory asked quietly. “Of course it is. There’s been no one else but you, Negan. It’s always been you.” She fiddled with the fabric of her jeans, concentrating hard on the threads, anything to keep her voice from cracking. Memories of their time at the cabin danced through her head, filling her eyes with more tears that she didn’t wanna cry. That lump in her throat was growing bigger by the moment, choking her and making it hard to breathe.

She didn’t see or hear when Negan made his way over to her, and she was shocked when he knelt down in front of her. His large hands rested on the outside of her thighs, and before she could react, he had buried his head against her chest.  Not knowing what to do, Mallory wrapped her arms around his broad back and hugged him tightly.  

_He was crying._

_She was crying harder._

They sat there, Negan knelt before her, his arms around her waist, and hers about his shoulders, and cried together.

“Negan?” Mallory whispered against his hair.  Negan leaned back and stared up at her, his eyes bloodshot and watery, and lips pursed together. He looked so beat down, so weary, and she could only blame herself for the hell she’d put him through.

“I love you, I’m sorry. I just…I love you and I am so, so sorry,” Mallory cried softly, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her good hand came up to tentatively rest against his scruffy cheek, and Negan took that as invitation. He leaned forward, and pressed his lips to hers as he ever so gently pushed himself up on his knees and further into her arms.

“I’m sorry,” he kissed along Mallory’s lips, “for whatever I did, and whatever I might fuckin' do, I’m sorry.”

Mallory laughed --  _she couldn't control it_  -- and wrapped her arms around Negan’s neck as he lifted her up and lay her on the bed.  He was grinning down at her as he unzipped her heavy jacket and parted it.  With an almost reverent air, he lightly ran his hand over her swollen tummy, his grin getting bigger and bigger as he felt the proof of what she'd said.  When his hand slipped underneath the edge of her shirt and lifted it, Mallory draped an arm over her eyes in embarrassment.  His fingers were soon replaced with his lips, and she giggled again as his beard tickled the sensitive skin of her abdomen.

“I love you, Mal. More than you’ll ever know, but I swear to fuckin’ God, if you ever fuckin' leave me again…” Negan’s warning trailed off as he grinned up at her from over her belly.

“Come here, you,” Mallory beckoned him with a crooked finger.

Negan crawled up her body, ensuring he was off to the side of her, and stared down as he propped himself up on one hand. Mallory ran her finger up his jaw, along his wiry beard and back down to his lips.

“I’m never leaving you. Not ever again.”  That was a promise she would keep, no matter what. 

Negan kissed her fingertip, nuzzling it with his lips and nose, before pushing his cheek against her open palm.

“I’m gonna go fuckin’ insane, babe. Please don’t fuckin' do that again. Fuckin' fuck.” His eyes were closed, but Mallory could feel how desperate he was for her to believe him.

“I was wrong, Negan.  Wrong about so many things. I’ve not been… _good_ …since we lost our baby, and I know that. I took it out on you, and for that I’m so sorry.” The tears began flowing again as Mallory confessed. “I never should have done that, and I wish I could take it back, but I can’t.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore apologies, okay?” Negan pushed her hand down, forcing it onto the bed, and leaned over her. He leaned down and kissed her, gently at first, but then more urgent as his need grew. Feeling himself losing control, he released her lips and pressed his forehead against hers with a groan.

“What’s wrong?” Mallory asked. Negan could hear the dismay in her voice as he stopped kissing her, could almost feel her insecurity, and he pulled back to smile down at her. 

“It’s not you, sweetheart.” He pushed some hair off her forehead and tenderly kissed her there. “I’m worried about you.  I’m worried about us, baby. I don’t wanna do anything that you’re not ready for.”

_“I’m ready for you, Negan,”_ Mallory inisted as she tugged at his shirt to pull him to her.

“Mal... _babe_...please don’t, okay?” Negan kissed her forehead again as he tried to calm her down.  

He had to reassure her. Needed to.  He gathered her into his arms, and pulled her into his chest as she cried against him.  He hated making her feel this way, but he could not in good conscience make love to her now.  Not when she was still so fragile.  He would never forgive himself if something happened to her and their baby again. Never. 

“Is it my hand?  The scar on my face?” Mallory sniffled against his chest. “Is it because I left you? What is it?” She was damn near hysterical now, her voice cracking as her breathing came in great big huffs and hiccups. _“It’s my hand, isn’t it?”_

“Mallory, sweetheart, you are more beautiful today than you were the first day I met you. I don’t care about your fuckin’ hand, or that you fuckin' left me, 'cause you're fuckin' back now, and you ain't ever leavin' again.”  He hugged her tighter against his chest.  “I care about you.  I care about us,” his hand traveled down and caressed her stomach, “I care about our baby, okay?”

Mallory searched his face for truth, her eyes wide with her fear and insecurity.  She didn't speak, instead shoved her face back into his chest and began softly crying again.  Surprisingly she didn't pull away from him; instead she wrapped her arm about his waist and held tight. 

All Negan could do was hold her.  Hold her and hope that she understood how much he loved her, and he would do absolutely anything and everything to make sure she and their baby was safe.


	40. Chapter 40

Early the next morning,  Mallory woke up alone.  

She rubbed her hand against Negan’s side of the bed, and felt the coolness that indicated he’d been gone for some time.  She couldn’t dismiss the unease she felt at him being gone, but she also knew that he had a job to do – whether she was in his bed or not.

_Their bed,_ she mentally corrected herself.  Their bed, and this wasn’t the first time she’d woken up alone in their bed.   She was back now, and even though they’d not really discussed anything _\--they'd not discussed anything last night, actually --_ she knew she was back to stay for better or worse.  Rick was probably gone by now, and she had no way to leave even if she wanted to.  But why would she want to leave?  Isn't this where she wanted to be?  

_But what if Negan doesn't want you,_ the little niggling voice in her head called to her, forcing her fears and doubts up first and foremost again.  Even though they'd apologized to each other, she still couldn't shake the feeling that he was angry with her.  That maybe he didn't want her.  That maybe he was just putting up with her.  They'd slept in each other's arms last night, wrapped up as tightly as possible, but she still felt uneasy around him.   _Unsettled._  

_She felt like he was avoiding her._

She clenched her fists as her chest tightened with anxiety.  She needed to calm down.  Yes, she needed to calm down and stop looking for things to go wrong.  Everything was going to be fine.  She would be fine, he would be fine, they would be fine.  Just like Maggie said.  Just like Rick said.  Everything would be fine and it would all work out. 

_"Just calm the hell down!"_ she chastised herself in a furious whisper.  

Her bladder screamed for release and she crawled off the bed, shrugging her jacket on along the way as she made her way over to the bathroom.  Luckily the facility was empty for the most part, with everyone out doing their various jobs or on runs for the day. 

“Mallory?”

Mallory stopped short of the bathroom, and turned to see Carson grinning back at her.  Her lips curled up in a smile at seeing her old friend.  A familiar face at last!

“Carson!” She moved into his open embrace and hugged him tight. While he was Negan’s assistant, he’d always been somewhat of a brother-type towards her, and she was glad to see him. _Glad that he was glad to see her,_ what with all the shit that had happened.

Carson released her and looked down at her abdomen with a grin.

“So…” He glanced up at her, eyebrows raised in question.

“Yep. I guess we’re gonna try this again, huh?” Mallory tried to tease, but the quiver made it’s way into her voice nonetheless.  Some things just couldn't be ignored or joked about. 

“Hey, stop that now! This time will be different, okay?” Carson shook his head at her. “Negan is out right now making sure we’ve got everything you need and then some.”

“Is that where he is?” Mallory looked around again. Carson nodded.

“Yep. I’m supposed to watch over you, and help you with whatever you need.” Carson crossed his arms over his chest and chuckled. “I’ve been sitting out here waiting for you to wake up since before dawn.”

“What?” Mallory gasped in embarrassment.

“Boss’s orders,” Carson chuckled again with another shake of his head.  Mallory sighed, knowing how overbearing Negan could be when he wanted to be so.

“What else did he order you to do?” Mallory was growing a bit agitated at the fact that Negan had pretty much assigned her a babysitter.  It was a little insulting, to be honest. Especially given everything she'd gone through, and everything she'd had to do on her damn own!

“Well, he wanted me to help you get showered up, get you new clothes, and find you food to eat.” Carson lifted his chin determinedly.

Mallory snorted in annoyance. Of all the men here, Negan would of course pick Carson for this, especially since the man was gay. _No threat there, right?_

Still, she would be damned if she showered with Carson there watching. _Nope._

“Look, I can take a shower on my own, okay? I don’t need you in there, Carson.” Mallory made her way over to the bathroom and was just about to step inside when Carson halted her, a hand at her elbow.

“Humor me, please?” Carson glanced over his shoulder as an older woman approached.  She had to be in her 60s or 70s. Her silvery gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and she had on those clothes that older folks were fond of - the polyester pants, and a floral, button down shirt.  She reminded Mallory of her Mawmaw Sonnier back in Louisiana, and looked completely out of place in the middle of an apocalypse.  

The older woman moved forward, and Mallory noticed the towel she held bunched under her arm. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me, right?” Mallory mumbled under her breath.  Just because this lady reminded her of her mawmaw did not make it any cooler. _Not at all._

“Hello, Mallory. I’m Ellen.” The older woman smiled at Mallory, and Mallory felt a little guilty for being so rude. If anyone deserved her ire, it would be Negan and his domineering ways.  

She’d been back all of five minutes and he was already bossing her around as if she were a child!

“Nice to meet you Ellen,” Mallory shuffled towards the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute, okay?” Before she could close the door, Carson had ushered Ellen into the bathroom;  Mallory couldn’t hide her frustration, and glared at them both.  

Carson held his hands up in a placating gesture while Ellen continued to smile back at her in that gentle way that a grandmother would.  That infuriatingly gentle way that Mallory feel all the more ashamed of her behavior. 

“Mallory, you know how he is, okay? He said one of us needed to be with you at all times, and since I’m not okay with being in here while you shower, I thought Ms. Ellen could do that portion.”

Mallory wanted to fight back, to argue with Carson and tell him not no — _but hell no!!_ —but she knew how Negan was.  If word got back to him that she’d done something outside of his orders, Carson would pay. Ellen would pay.   Mallory couldn’t have that on her conscience.  Not when Ellen reminded her of her mawmaw so much…

_Goddamn you, Negan!_

“Fine,” she huffed as she shrugged out of her jacket.  Carson quietly made his way out of the bathroom, locking the door behind him and leaving the two ladies alone.

“It’s only because he cares about you, hun,” Ms. Ellen offered in that gentle, motherly way.

“It’s annoying,” Mallory continued griping as she kicked off her socks. She started to pull at her tee shirt, but caught herself and looked at Ellen. The older woman nodded, and turned away, giving Mallory the privacy she wanted. It was only when Mallory had climbed in the shower and closed the curtain that Ellen spoke again.

“How far along are you?” Ellen asked.

“Uhm…maybe 5 months? It’s hard to keep track out here.” Mallory rubbed the bar of soap across her skin. The water was lukewarm, and she was trying to go as quick as possible.  She didn't relish the idea of talking about her pregnancy and Negan with a stranger. 

“You know, I was a midwife before all of this… _stuff_ …happened,” Ellen continued.  Her interest peaked, Mallory stopped rubbing her hair as she listened. “It’s why your husband brought me here this morning.”

Mallory felt her stomach flip-flop and tears prick at her eyes. _Her husband?_

“He loves you very much, Ms. Mallory,” Ellen stated plainly. 

Mallory stood under the water stream as tears rolled down her cheeks. She was so damn emotional lately, and would cry at the drop of a damn hat.  

“Don’t be so mad at him, sweetie. He told me what happened before, and he’s just trying to be careful with you,” Ellen gently continued. “He loves you very, very much. He might be crass--r _ude even--_  but his intentions are honorable.”

Finally having composed herself somewhat, Mallory shut off the water, and pulled the curtain back; Ellen was there with a towel and a gentle smile. No longer mad, and no longer embarrassed, Mallory stepped into the warmth of the towel. Her smile was wobbly with emotion as she glanced at the older woman.

“This is what we need, sweetie. This,” Ellen reached down and gently patted Mallory’s tummy, “ this is hope. We all could use a little hope, right?” Ellen’s brown eyes were soft and gentle, motherly even.

“I guess you’re right,” Mallory whispered, still finidng it hard to speak.

Ellen helped her get dressed, and helped her twist her hair back into a thick braid that fell down her back.  Carson had ensured that she ate, and Mallory was beyond stuffed. It was awkward being treated as such, but Mallory played the game as best as possible.  She got back to her room as quick as she could, and was relieved to see that at least Negan would allow her to stay in there alone.  

She was propped up on their bed, reading through a stack of old magazines, when Negan returned.


	41. Chapter 41

“Did you know that I never got to see the last _Hobbit_ movie?” Mallory didn’t look up as she continued flipping through the old _OK_ Magazine. “I had the biggest crush on Richard Armitage.”

Negan closed the door but didn’t move forward. Mallory continued flipping through the magazine in her lap, oblivious to his ambivalence. She laughed at something she was reading and flipped another page. 

“Did you think Kim Kardashian was hot?” Mallory looked up, her brows arched as she waited for his reply; he stared back at her, completely and utterly confused at this line of questioning. How was he supposed to answer that kind of loaded question?  He cautiously proceeded the best he knew how. 

“Uhm…what are you fuckin’ talking about?” Negan slowly made his way over to the empty chair and sat down. He began removing his boots and pulling off his socks, praying internally that whatever he might say in the next few minutes would be the right thing.

_Whatever that was._

Mallory was confusing the fuck out of him, so he pretended to be busy with his bootlaces. 

“Oh, that reminds me, you gotta stop cussing so much.” She picked up another magazine and began turning the pages. “Our baby’s first word is gonna be "fuck", or "holy hell", and I just don’t think that’s appropriate, you know?”

Negan sat back in his chair as he regarded Mallory again, eyes wide as he rubbed his stubbled jaw. He surely needed to shave, but the damn beard was starting to grow on him as of late.  He set his boots aside.  

“Mal, what’s going on?” He asked point blank, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited. He hoped that was a question in the right direction at least!

“What’s going on?” Mallory chuckled as she dropped the magazine and crawled off the bed.  She slowly made her way over to Negan, and stood before him, arms crossed over her breasts.  She was still wearing that heavy jacket she was fond of, the one that was two-sizes too big and swallowed her whole. 

“Yeah,” Negan swallowed hard as he stared up at her from his seat on the chair.

He swallowed even harder when Mallory dropped the jacket around her feet, revealing a flimsy, nearly sheer tank top that just barely reached the top of her thighs. 

And nothing else. She had no pants on, and no panties. 

_She wasn’t wearing fucking panties, for fucks sake._

Mallory leaned over him, her good hand using the chair arm to prop herself up, and stared into his eyes. He did his best to not stare at her bare breasts that the loose tank top revealed, but holy hell was it hard. _They were right fucking in front of his nose, not but a half-foot away!_  He shifted in his seat, feeling that all-too familiar stirring in his groin and forced his eyes to focus on hers.

“What’s going on, Negan,  is that I’m tired of you telling me what to do.  I’m tired of you treating me like a porcelain doll.  I’m tired of having decisions made for me, by you.” She rubbed her chin against her shoulder and stared at him out of the corner of her eye. “I really dislike having an old woman stand in the bathroom with me while I shower. I dislike Carson telling me to eat this and eat that.”

“Mal, sweetie, I’m just trying to—”

“I know.  And I appreciate it.  And I love you for it, but stop. Please.” Without warning, Mallory grabbed Negan by the hand and dragged him out of the chair and over to the bed.  Almost in a stupor, he sat down on the bed as she directed. His eyes went wide again when she pushed him back on the bed, forcing him to lay down.

He nearly stopped breathing when she crawled over the bed towards him.

_He actually stopped breathing when she straddled him, and placed her completely naked bottom against the waist of his jeans._

“Mal…” he warned her, his voice thick and deep with a need that he wasn't sure he could satisfy. 

“I’m tired of being treated as if I might break.” She reached down and grabbed his hand and dragged it up to her thigh, forcing him to touch her. His fingers trembled at her bare hip, and Mallory smirked. _She was getting to him, she could feel it._   She released his hand and set to work unbuttoning his long sleeve shirt. When she was finished, she peeled it back, revealing his bare chest.  Those tattoos that she loved so much, the smattering of salt and pepper chest hair that trailed down between his pectoral muscles and disappeared beneath the waist of his boxers...

“I want you to touch me the way you used to.” She trailed her fingertips down the center of his chest, delighting in the way his muscles jumped and bunched beneath her, the way his wiry hair rasped against her nails. Her fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans, and her brows drew together in frustration. It was still hard to do the simplest of things with one damn hand! She bit at her lower lip in concentration, and her frown grew when Negan reached down and grasped her hand in his.

“Mallory? Babe, look at me.” He gently coaxed her gaze up to his with a finger at her chin. He gave her a tender smile when he saw the unshed tears in her beautiful eyes, and when one rolled down her cheek, he used his thumb to push it aside.

“Don’t you want me anymore?” Her voice was plaintive, sad and needy in her vulnerability.   He could see her shrinking in on herself, could feel her withdrawing, and knew he had to do something.  He pushed himself up, and rolled her over onto her back.

“There’s nothing I want more than to fuckin' make love to you.” Negan ran a large hand over her belly, and felt the ache growing in his groin ever steadily. _God did he want to…_

 _“But?”_ Mallory timidly asked. Her earlier bravado was gone, and Negan felt incredibly guilty for taking that from her. It’s not like he wanted to push her away…

“But I’m scared, baby.” Negan dropped down and rested his head against her shoulder in defeat. “I’m so fuckin’ scared.”

Trembling — _and hoping for the best_ — Mallory reached down and grabbed his hand from atop her stomach and placed it at her breast. Her nipple hardened even further, and she squeezed her legs together as a rush of wetness pooled from this barest of touches.  She knew she had to convince Negan it was okay.  That it was okay for them to be together, if that was what he wanted.  She still wasn't sure that was what he wanted, and that terrified her.  

She had to try, though.  

His hand rested at her breast, and she could feel that he’d stilled once his palm connected with her swollen mound, but he’d not moved otherwise. Biting her lip nervously, Mallory moved his hand, forcing his palm to brush against her aching nipple, moving him back and forth over her. She had to convince him _…or force him…_ whatever came easier.

 _She had to reconnect with him somehow._  

“Please, Negan,” she whined as she rubbed his hand against her body. “I need you to help me forget everything. _I need to remember us.”_    The last sentence came out in a choked whisper, a plea for him to come back to her, to help him make her whole again.  She needed him more than she'd ever needed him before. 

He still didn’t move, and she felt that he was actively trying to pretend none of it was happening.  Her heart sank a little lower in her chest, but she had to try.   Not only for herself, but for them, she had to try. 

Feeling bolder _— but mostly desperate—_ she grabbed his hand and pushed it down her body, forcing it between her open legs.  When his fingers came in contact with her slick wetness, she moaned low in her throat at the hiss that escaped Negan's lips.  Her hips moved of their own accord, and she found herself wantonly grinding against his fingers.

She nearly sobbed in relief when she felt him stroke her from bottom to top with one long, calloused finger. _He was touching her!_ She vaguely remembered him growling a curse word before his mouth descended on hers…


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just be hiding in shame. Don't mind me....

He was kissing her...and then he wasn't.

Mallory opened her eyes, disappointed and fully expecting to see him pulling away.  Instead, she found him smirking at her as he sat up and maneuvered her so that he could pull her tank off completely, revealing her naked form to him.  Mallory squirmed restlessly as she reached for him, but Negan moved out of her grasp.  He just wanted to stare at her, and stare at her he did.  Mallory's entire body flushed under his heated gaze. 

“You are so fuckin’ beautiful, babe,” he marveled as he took in the sight of her full breasts and swollen belly.   _Swollen with his child,_ he smirked with manly pride. She was so fuckin' hot right now...

“Negan,” Mallory whined again, but Negan shushed her with another kiss.

“Hush, sweetie.” He sat up on his heels and pulled his shirt off and tossed it on the floor. “I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry.” He pulled his belt off and unbuckled his jeans, but did not remove them.  He had other plans at the moment…

Not expecting it, Mallory gasped when he pushed her legs apart, and she was not even remotely prepared for when he gripped her thighs with his calloused hands and nuzzled her where she wanted him most.  When he kissed the crease where her leg met her groin, she felt another explosion of wetness seep out of her and run down the back of her leg.  

Her cheeks reddened with a growing embarrassment, but she had no time to worry with that; with wide eyes, she stared down over her belly at the top of his head and waited.

“Damn, baby,” Negan growled as he rubbed his thumb over her aching core. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.   _Fuck me..._ ” He hissed between his teeth as he popped his thumb in his mouth and licked it clean.

His eyes locked on hers as he sucked on his thumb, holding her captive as he stared at her. His eyes had darkened, the color of molten chocolate, heavy-lidded with lust, and Mallory felt her insides clench when she saw that familiar glint in them.  He swiped his wet thumb back over that sensitive bundle of nerves, and Mallory felt her toes curl up in the sheet at the sensations coursing through her veins.  

Humming low in his throat, Negan replaced his thumb with his tongue, licking one long strip from bottom to top, nearly sending Mallory into a screaming fit. The pleasure was overwhelming, and she felt her legs trembiling in anticipation as Negan slipped his broad tongue inside her.  Invading her, plundering, and filling her just enough to make her want more. She pushed against him, trying to drive herself into his face. Anything to get closer.

“Oh god!” Mallory whimpered as she clutched at his head with her good hand. “Please!” She twisted her fingers in his hair, desperately pulling and scratching at his scalp. 

Grinning, Negan replaced his tongue with one long finger, and stroked her in and out as his mouth descended on her clit. The wet, sloppy sounds filled the room, and Mallory bucked and writhed beneath him, begging and demanding for release.   Negan slid another finger in, stretching her as he sought out that special spot that always rocked her world. He crooked his fingers slightly, all the while working her clit with the tip of his tongue.  It was a furious pace, and Mallory struggled to stay afloat, even as her body moved closer and closer to combusting.  Her breath came in pants and whimpers, guttural pleas for relief, but Negan was relentless.

“Come on, babe,” he encouraged her, his breath warm against her pussy as he fingered her. “Let go. Just fuckin’ let go.”

He flicked her clit again with the tip of his tongue, furiously working her over and over again as his fingers plunged in and out, stroking her walls and sending her higher and higher.

Unable to hold out any longer, Mallory screamed his name as her orgasm crashed over her in wave after delicious wave of pleasure. Her fist flew to her mouth, and she bit down hard to quiet her screams as her world exploded behind her eyelids;  she felt as if she were going to black out, so overwhelming were the sensations coursing through her spasming body. Negan coaxed every last shudder out of her, his fingers and tongue pulled out every last tremor, every last moan he could, and when it was over, Mallory lay in a sated puddle at his side. Her eyelids fluttered open to catch him staring at her as he’d crawled up beside her.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers tenderly.

“Hi,” he grinned against her fingers.

“Hi,” Mallory whispered back.

She was happy. So very happy, and she loved this man so much. The distance between them had lessened; both could feel it, and she felt a relaxation she hadn't felt in so long.  It washed over her, dragging her eyelids down even as she fought to remain awake.   

 “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” Negan murmured as he kissed her on her forehead.  Mallory’s eyes closed as Negan pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her.  She sank down into a deep sleep, and for the first time in a long time, they slept peacefully.  

_Both at ease with the world and with themselves..._

_At peace with each other._


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hell, I don't know what happened here...

Less than an hour later, Mallory was wide awake.

_Her damn bladder again._

With an annoyed sigh, she sat up, and was immediately grabbed by Negan.

“What is it?” He sat up, his eyes wide in a panic. Mallory just barely contained her eye roll.  He was bordering on ridiculous now...

“I have to pee, Negan.”

“Oh,” he sighed as he flopped back down on the bed. “Want me to go with you?”

Mallory clambered off the bed and pulled on her discarded sweats. “I can manage.”

“Call if you need anything,” Negan sleepily ordered as she exited the room.  Across the hall, Mallory quickly did her business.  

Once through, she went to the small sink and washed her face, taking in her appearance.  She couldn’t help but smile at what she saw.

She could see the outline of her breasts in the mirror’s reflection, her nipples hard in the cool, night air, and she bit down on her lip as she remembered the hours earlier.  Her hormones were raging even now, and all she wanted was Negan.   All she could think about was fucking his brains out, of him fucking hers out, of them fucking each other's brains out - over and over, an over again.  She squeezed her thighs together as a wave of white-hot lust ran through her body at the thought of him touching her again.  The thought of him filling her up, the way he felt when he came inside her -- _lord the faces he made!!_ \--all were driving her insane with need.  

She needed him, and come hell or high water, she was gonna have him.   _Even if she had to do all the work, she was gonna have him._

She washed her face off, and then dug around under the sink for the bag of toiletries that Ellen had placed their earlier.  She found a rag, and with a small bit of soap, cleaned herself off as best as possible so that she was somewhat fresh.  With a satisfied smile and feeling a bit cleaner, she pulled out the deodorant and rolled it on under her arms.  She dug a bit more in the bag and found an old bottle of _Beautiful,_ and dabbed some of that on along her collarbone, at her wrist, and just for good measure, sprayed some down the front of her pants; her cheeks reddened in embarrassment at her naughty actions.  The perfume hit her nose, causing her eyes to water.  It wasn't a bad smell, just maybe it had been so long since she smelled something so good that it felt out of place?  It wasn’t a fragrance she would have chosen for herself, but beggar’s can’t be choosers, right?  She only hoped Negan liked it.

She placed everything back in the bag and put it under the sink again.  As satisfied as much as she could be with the way she looked -- _and smelled_ \-- she quickly made her way back over to their room and let herself back inside.  Locking the door, she quietly padded over to their bed, all the while strategizing how she was gonna pull this off when Negan was so hesitant to touch her. 

Negan was sat up, leaned agains the pillows as he watched her approach.

“I was getting ready to come get you.” He yawned loudly and sleepily patted the bed beside him. “What took so long? You alright?”

Mallory tugged on her lower lip with her teeth as she grinned at him.  Seeing him sitting there bare chested was almost too much.  She was overwhelmed with lust, and she could feel the moisture seeping through her body and making the insides of her thighs slick.  Without a word, she stepped out of her sleep pants, and crawled over the bed to him and slid under the covers.  She quickly straddled him before he could stop her.

“Mal, what are you doing?” Negan began protesting.  Whatever he was gonna say after that died as Mallory slid her hands down the front of his sleep pants and into his boxers, and wrapped her fingers around his cock.  He immediately sprang to life, much to her delight.

“What does it feel like I’m doing?” she purred as she stroked him.  Not for the first time did she lament the fact that she had only one hand…

“Babe, you gotta stop. We can’t… _ahh fuck_ …” Negan moaned as she tugged on him, pulling him into an even harder state.  

Mallory was insistent, her small fingers tight around his rock-hard cock as she slid up and down his length.  She leaned down and kissed along his neck, nipping and biting and licking, doing everything she could to entice him.  She had just pulled the shell of his ear in-between her lips when Negan grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back off him with a grunt.

“Stop!” he barked angrily as he held her back.

Surprised, Mallory blinked back at him for a moment... and abruptly burst into tears.

“Ahhh… shit, baby,” Negan pulled her back into his chest.

“Why won't you touch me?” Mallory cried into the base of his neck. _“What is wrong with me?”_

“It’s not you, goddamnit!” Negan muttered angrily.  He was so damn frustrated, and horny as fuck! He shifted her on his lap, his erection a painful reminder of just how much he wanted her.

 _“Then?”_ Mallory pushed back off him and stared into his eyes, sniffling.

“You’re pregnant!”

“No shit, I’m pregnant!” Mallory barked back.  She was so damn tired of being treated as if she were this fragile thing!  “People can still have sex when they're pregnant, Negan!”

“Mal,” Negan’s jaw hardened in aggravation. They stared at each other for a few tense moments before Mallory rolled off of him and scooted to the edge of the bed.  She reached for her pants.

“Where the fuck are you going now?” Negan asked through clenched teeth.

“To take a shower.” Mallory shot back just as angrily. She stood and jerked her pants on, her fingers trembling in anger and frustration. “The shower head will do just fine!”

She started walking towards the door.

“Goddamnit, Mallory!” Negan shouted as he, too,  stood up. “Get your ass back over here!”

Just before the door, Mallory turned and glared at him, arms crossed over her chest, and defiantly lifted her chin. 

“No.”

Negan stalked towards her, and Mallory couldn’t hide the frissons that rolled over her body as she watched him approach. _Christ, but he was a sight._   His pants clung to his slim hips, his stomach muscles bunching as he made his way to her.  All long, and lean, and sexy as hell... and he was heading right for her. The angry way his jaw was set only added to her desire, and images of him throwing her up against the door and fucking her brains out danced through her head.

_Not that he could - or would - do that when she was pregnant, but a girl could dream, right?_

“Are you really gonna play this fuckin’ game with me right now?” Negan stood before her, his body hard, tense with anger.  Mallory stared at his chest, her eyes roving over his body. She bit her lip again, and just barely managed to keep herself from reaching out and tasting him.

“I’m not playing a game,” she breathed innocently, her eyes meeting his.

“Oh, I think you fuckin’ are,” Negan remarked as his presence backed her up against the door.  He placed one hand beside her head on the door as he leaned over her. “I think you’re doing everything you can to break me.”

He tilted her chin up with one finger, forcing her to look at him.  His eyes were dark, narrowed on her face as he traced the outline of her lower lip with his thumb.

Mallory could see the internal struggle waging, and she knew it was now or never.

She reached out with her good hand and grasped his as she enveloped his finger with her lips. She sucked on his thumb, swirling her tongue around it as she coquettishly stared up at him.

“Son of a fuckin’ bitch,” Negan hissed as he brought his free hand down and clutched at her ass.  Mallory moaned as his fingers bruised the skin of her hip, but her heart soared at his possessive touch.  

He dropped his head and placed his forehead against hers.

“Are you sure, babe?” he whispered against her.

“Yes, Negan.  I’m absolutely sure,” Mallory kissed him softly. “Please, please make love to me.”

With a resigned sigh, Negan slid his hand up her side and found her hand, his fingers laced with hers as they walked back to the bed together.  Mallory crawled on first, propped up on her knees as she waited. Negan stood at the edge of the bed, the war still waging in his mind as he weighed the pros and cons.

“Negan,” Mallory reached for him.  He took her hand and together they lay down, facing each other and side by side.  His eyes were wary, and he had yet to touch her again.  

“You won’t hurt me,” Mallory ran her hand up and down his front, twirling the dark hairs with her fingertips. “You won’t hurt us.”

"Last time-”

“Was a fluke,” Mallory finished for him. “It was a bad accident, and had nothing to do with us making love, Negan. _Nothing._ ”

His brown eyes met hers in the dim light; she nodded with an encouraging smile.

“Touch me.” She brought his hand up to her breast, forcing him to cup her through her thin tank. “Feel how much I want you.”

With a groan, Negan let his hand travel over her breast, weighing the fullness with his palm.  His eyes never left hers as his fingers pinched and pulled her nipple into an aching hardness. Mallory moaned against him, her eyes closing in delight as he pulled her closer.

“You will tell me if anything hurts, Mal.” Negan clutched at the spot below her ass cheek, pulling her closer. “If anything feels weird, you’ll tell me immediately.”

“Okay,” Mallory agreed. It was hard to focus when his hands were roaming over her backside, the warm promise of things to come. He pushed at her sweats, forcing them down her thighs.

“We gotta take these off, sweetheart.”

Mallory helped him as much as possible, but in the end, it was Negan that sat up and pulled her pants off; his soon followed. The next thing to go was Mallory’s tank, and then they were naked, holding each other as close as possible. The only thing separating them at all was the soft swell of Mallory’s belly.

Negan caressed her, his large hands roaming over her entire body as he reacquainted himself to her.  His hands were rough against her smoothness, the calloused skin of a man that worked too much and too long.   _She loved every second of it._

“I have missed you so fuckin’ much.” He kissed her lips, the stubble on his face chafing her as he nuzzled her cheek.  His hand traveled down her side, lovingly tracing the lines of her belly, before finally sliding down between her legs.  His fingers found her slick and hot with need.

“Fuck, babe,” he hissed as he traced the lines of her lower lips with his fingers. _She was so damn wet!_

“I need you, Negan,” Mallory moaned as she strained towards him.  His fingers just weren’t enough!

“How do you wanna do this, baby?” Negan murmured against her lips as his fingers teased her, dipping in and out every so often before circling back to her aching clit.

“You behind me?” Mallory suggested.

Her eyes popped open and she stared into his as another wave of desire flooded her at the thought of him fucking her doggy-style. She knew Negan felt it on his fingers as he touched her.  Without waiting, she rolled over onto her knees and pushed her bare ass up in the air towards him.  She fisted the blanket as she waited.  

“Goddamn…” Negan shook his head at the sight of her, all wet and pink and waiting for him.

He crawled up on his knees and took his place behind her, gripping her hip with one hand as he pressed the head of his swollen cock against her slick opening.  Mallory eagerly pushed back against him, wanting him, needing him. He could feel her wetness on him, could feel that molten heat as it coated him.  He shook his head, knowing he had to keep his wits about him.

“Okay, Mal, just tell me if-”

“Fuck me, now,” Mallory cut him off as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Quit talking and fuck me.”

With strangled groan, Negan slowly pushed himself inside her slick opening.  He closed his eyes and tilted his head back as he sank into her delicious heat. _Holy fuck but it had been way, way too long!_

Mallory started rolling her hips against him, pushing her legs out farther so that she could take him deeper.  She was panting, whimpering unintelligible words as she pleaded with him to take her, to make her his again. 

 _“Ah…Ne…Negan_ …” she stammered over and over again as she wantonly rolled against him.

Negan gave up trying to control it, and folded his long body over hers. One arm propped him up, ensuring that he wasn’t putting weight on her, while his other hand encircled her swollen belly.  Mallory was propped up on the forearm of her arm, and with her other, she grabbed his hand and forced it down between her legs again.  Negan obliged, and started working her slick, swollen nub with his fingers.

He wouldn’t thrust;  he didn’t need to. Mallory was doing all the work, and he was damn near on the edge of cumming as it were.  He just had to hold out for a a few more moments…

”Come for me, Mal,” Negan grunted in her ear. “Fuckin’ come on, babe!” He was selfish in his desire for her to orgasm; he knew once she did, he would. He worked her clit faster, rubbing tiny circles around it as she began to tremble.  She was coming apart under him, he could feel it as she clenched at him from inside. 

 _“Oh god…oh…fuck_ ….” Mallory whimpered as she explored around him, her body convulsing over and over as her orgasm hit. This triggered Negan’s, and he jerked inside her, his cock contracting almost painfully as he exploded inside her tight passage.

 _"Son of a bitch!"_ He grunted against her neck as he finally stopped spasming inside her.  His face was sweaty, and he pressed sloppy kisses against her back as he slowly eased himself out of her.  Mallory rolled over on her side as Negan flopped down beside her.  

She was grinning at him when he finally turned to look at her. 

"Hi," she smiled happily. 

"You're a damn brat, you know that?"  Negan tried to gripe, but there was no mistaking the happiness on his face.  

"But you still love me..." Mallory continued smiling.  

"You're fuckin' right I do," Negan agreed.  He scooted over and kissed her before laying back down on his back.  Mallory rolled over and pressed her backside against him as she pulled the covers over her body.  

"I can sleep now," she mumbled around a yawn.

"Me fuckin' too," Negan agreed, yawning as well. 

"You gotta stop cussing so much," Mallory mumbled as she started to drift off to sleep. 

Negan patted her backside with one hand, before he too, faded off into a deep sleep. 


	44. Chapter 44

 

“Negan?” Mallory asked, her voice just a whisper in the dark.

"Hmmm."  

“Who was Lucille?” Mallory swallowed hard.

“Really?”   Negan tightened his arm about her shoulder and pulled her closer.

“Yeah.”

_So far so good,_ Mallory thought to herself.  He hadn’t gotten up and walked away, although she could hear the reservation in his voice at her line of questioning. Truth was, she’d always wanted to know who Lucille was — _if she was anyone._ Even with everything that had happened, and everything she knew about him, she and Negan still had so many secrets between them; ripping the lid off the proverbial Pandora’s Box seemed the best way to proceed.  She waited with baited breath, wondering if he would confess or not…

“Aren’t you tired?” Negan yawned again.

“I am, but I wanna know, Negan,” Mallory shifted against him, trying to get comfortable against his chest.  "I need to know." 

He remained silent, and she was actually just at the point where she regretted asking the damn question, when he finally spoke up.

“So, it’s pretty fuckin' stupid actually.  You thought it was some long lost girlfirend, didn’t you?” Negan chuckled as he pressed a benevolent kiss to her forehead.

“I don’t know,” Mallory hedged, although her cheeks were burning in embarrassment.   _Of course she thought it was some girl!_

Negan cleared his throat, a mixture between a laugh and a grunt.  

“So, after my wi— after they died —I sat in my house and nearly drank myself into a damn blackout. I had been drinking for a while before the world went to shit, ‘cause even though things were good, they weren’t great.  We fought a whole damn lot, she and I.  I loved my daughter, and honestly I was hoping that having another baby would fix things between me and her.  Deep down, I knew it probably fuckin' wouldn’t.  Hell, I was on the verge of being an _every-other-weekend_ dad that paid child support.  I knew it was coming.”  Negan reached up with his free hand and rubbed it across his chin, the rasp of skin against stubble loud in the too-quiet room.  “Fucking funny, aint it?  I’d give my right arm to be that kinda fucking dad again.  At least they’d still be here, ya know?”

Mallory hugged him tight, but didn't speak.  She never had kids, and she couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose one that you’d had for 6 years;  losing their unborn was hard enough.

“So...I was wasted, completely shit-faced, and, like a dumb-ass, decided I needed more whiskey.  So, I carried my drunk ass down the street and made my way to _Hank’s_.” He chuckled again. “Fuckin’ hilarious that I didn’t get eaten along the way, but whatever…I guess, right?

Mallory shivered against him, the thought of him so close to death scaring her even now.  

“So _Hank’s_ … _Hank’s_ was an old bar that I used to go to when I could sneak away from her. Before I’d left the house, I’d grabbed the baseball bat that I bought for… _him…_ ” Negan’s voice cracked a little, and Mallory hugged him even tighter, her nose pressed against his neck.

He cleared his throat again. 

“Anyway, It was deserted, with everyone either evacuated or dead.  Actually, I don’t fuckin’ know where they all were, but nobody was there.  Anyways, I fuckin’ sat there, drinking from a half-empty bottle of Jack that I’d found behind the bar, just staring at my fuckin’ self in the mirror.  I don’t know what I was doing there — waiting, maybe? _Waiting to die?  Waiting for someone to show up and rescue me?_ Hell, I still don’t fucking know.   All I know is I felt this huge amount of guilt for not being there to save them.  If I had just _not_ fuckin’ gone out that day, maybe they’d still be here.”  Negan reached up and swiped a hand across his face as he pulled in a ragged breath; Mallory wondered if he was crying.  

He'd so rarely shown that kind emotion, and she could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen him cry.  She decided not to press her luck and bring attention to it if he was.  

“At some point, I realized the clock on the wall was still ticking, and the tick-fucking-tock got on my nerves.  It was just too damn loud in the bar, if that makes sense.  So I got up, went to the old jukebox in the corner.  I’d seen it a thousand times before, but I’ve never used it, ya know?  I didn’t have any money, so I scrounged through the tip jar like a fuckin' thief and pulled out a coupla’ quarters.  I popped them in, and miraculously the damn thing still worked. I thought the power was out, so I don’t fucking know.”

“The albums were already open, so I just left it there and pressed a button, and it turns out it was Kenny Rogers. I always fuckin loved Kenny.  Hell, even when he did all that weird shit to his face, he was still a great damn singer.” Negan laughed again, deep in his chest. “Anyways, the song that was playing was “ _Lucille_ ”. Fucking ironic ain't, it?”  

 Another throaty laugh.

“ _You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille…_ ” Negan hummed along under his breath.  

Mallory felt his heartbeat speed up under her cheek, and she knew he must be thinking about his wife and kids. She didn’t feel jealous, or guilty of his former wife -- she just felt sad.  Sad for him having lost so much.  Sad to think of him sitting alone, drinking in a bar and waiting to die. Sad that he felt so much guilt for things out of his control.  Sad that he still tried to cover up things with humor, as if laughing made it not so bad.  

_Sad that she’d never realized how much he loved her before this moment…_

It all made sense now, his controlling ways. His overbearing, domineering, _'my-way-or-the-highway'_ ways.  All of it made sense now.

“So, it just kinda stuck. I looked over at the baseball bat laying on the bar top and fuckin' named her Lucille.  Right then and there, she became Lucille. Been with me ever since.”

Mallory was silent, still mired in the knowledge that she’d just gleaned from his sad story.   So much despair, so much hopelessness.

“You thought there was some awesome story behind it, didn’t ya?  Well, now you know.  I’m just as fuckin' boring as the rest of these fucks around here. Named after a damn song.” Negan chuckled, a humorless laugh of self-deprecation at his own expense.

“You gotta stop cussing so much,” Mallory playfully chastised him as she climbed over him and straddled his waist; she was doing her best to not break down in front of him.  Negan stared up at her, the smile on his face negated by the haunted look in his eyes. Mallory had never seen him look more vulnerable than he did right now, right after he’d bared his soul to her.  She knew he was not only thinking about the family he’d lost, but their baby as well.  She knew this.

“You did nothing wrong, Negan. You were trying to take care of your family as best you could, okay? All the rules that we played by before, they’re all gone. Nothing makes sense, and even when you try to plan, try to prepare, something goes wrong.”  Mallory reached down and cupped his cheek with her palm, smiling tenderly as Negan turned his face into her hand.  His hand came up to rest on the back of hers as he held her to his face, his grip tight as if she might disappear on him. 

“You loved them, and you did the best you could. It’s not your fault, Negan. It’s never been your fault. _None of it was your fault_.”

“Easy to say, ya know?” Negan gruffly replied.  His eyes were clenched shut, his jaw ticking as he fought back emotions that he still wasn’t ready to deal with.

“I know it is. I’ve never had to deal with the stuff you’ve dealt with, and I won’t pretend to say I understand, but I love you.  It’s all I have to offer, and I will be by your side, no matter what.” Mallory leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to his temple.  “So, I’ll keep telling you how much I love you, and how much you mean to me, and to our baby, until you believe it, okay? You don’t have to prove anything to me, Negan.”

He turned to look up at her, and Mallory’s heart fluttered when she saw some of the light come back into his beautiful eyes at her belief in him. Maybe, just maybe, she’d gotten through to him somewhat.  It would be a long road, yet, but still…

“I never loved her like I loved you, Mal,” Negan admitted, his voice still thick with emotion.  “I feel so fuckin’ guilty for even saying that, but it’s fuckin’ true.  I was comfortable with her, so yeah I loved her, but not like I love you.   _Not like I love you_.”  He reached up and trailed a long finger down the side of her jaw.  “I’d gladly die for you.  Wouldn’t even fuckin’ think twice.” His eyes started to lose focus again, and Mallory knew he was slipping back off into that scary place of doubt and uncertainty and fear, that place where he feared he’d lose everything - to include her.  

“Well, neither of us is planning on dying anytime soon, okay?” Mallory leaned down and kissed his chin before moving up and pressing her lips to his.  She had to pull him back, bring him back alongside her before he slipped away again, and she knew the perfect way. “Make love to me.”

She wriggled her hips against his, delighting in the feel of his body hardening at that slightest of movements.  She pushed herself back down a tad, forcing her core to come in contact with his growing erection.  

“Make love to me, Negan,” she ordered again as she suggestively squirmed against him.

“You sure are bossy, aren’t you?” Negan grunted as his fingers found her hips and held her still. Mallory giggled as she sat up and maneuvered herself out of her tank top. Negan’s eyes drank her in with appreciation, and Mallory knew that there would be no hesitation this time around. _He was coming back to her._

“It’s the hormones, babe,” Mallory giggled again. She grabbed of Negan’s hands and placed it against her breast, forcing him to cup her. When his fingers closed around a taut nipple, she closed her eyes, biting her lower lip as her hips rolled against his.  Her breasts were so sensitive, pleasure tinged with pain as he palmed her.

“So fuckin’ hot,” Negan growled as he sat up and gathered her to his bare chest. “So goddamned fuckin’ hot.”

Mallory smiled to herself as she wrapped her arms around him, her lips at his neck.  Her Negan was coming back to her.  

_Maybe for the first time in a long time..._


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That pic is just for my viewing pleasure. Your's too...if you'd like.

  

  
“Are you awake?”

Negan startled at her voice. It felt like he’d not slept in ages, and he was honest enough with himself to admit that he was just a little bit annoyed with Mallory for waking him again. _Even he had his limits…_

He rolled over, wrapping the blanket up around his neck as he pretended to sleep.  Maybe if he snored a little louder--

“Negan?” Mallory insistently poked him in the back, and his eyes flew open.

“I am now,” he grumbled.  He pushed his anger aside as he rolled over, and Mallory quickly pressed herself back against his chest.  He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and sighed.   _Now if she would just go back to sleep…_

“I have to tell you something.”

 _Nope,_ Negan thought to himself. _He wasn’t gonna get that lucky._

“I think I enjoyed killing Amber,” Mallory whispered against his chest.

Negan’s eyes flew open at her admission.  Of all the things he thought she might say, that was not it.  That was most certainly not something he thought would ever come out of her pretty, little mouth. 

“I remember it, just as sure as if it just happened this morning, and I still don’t feel sorry about it,” Mallory continued in a low whisper.  Negan tightened his arms around her in a show of support;  honestly he didn't know what else to do.  He was fucking stunned. 

“I love you, Mal,” he kissed her forehead. “No matter what is said or not said, I love you. I just want you to know that, okay?” _At least he could do that, right?_

“She told me so many things Negan, so many things about you and her and how you would say things about me.  Things that you would do together.”

“None of which are true.  Fuck her,” Negan growled as his anger bubbled up again. _Yeah, he was fucking wide awake now._

“Please don’t talk, okay?” Mallory ordered softly. Negan’s answer was to squeeze her shoulder where he held her to him.

“I remember feeling like I couldn’t believe this was happening to me of all people, which is ridiculous, right?  Like who am I?”

Negan remained silent.

“Cause we all are in this fucked up world, and none of us are safe. Not even a would-be doctor like myself. I realized just how good I had it before.  I was an entitled, spoiled little girl that didn’t appreciate all the shit I put my family through just to achieve my dream of becoming a doctor. My dad worked his ass off for me. And my mom?” Mallory chuckled sadly. “We fought like cats and dogs, but in the end, _Mallory always got her way_.”

Mallory’s voice had grown into a sneer, and Negan pulled her a little closer.  His hand rested possessively at her stomach, a silent warning - _plea_ \- for her to not get too worked up.

“Like why shouldn’t it happen to me?  Even Amber said it, you know? I was freeloading off of you.”

“Fuck her,” Negan grumbled under his breath again.

“But she was right, you know?  I was.  I have been.  Even with Rick, I was doing the same.  Just doing enough to get by, you know?” Mallory rubbed tiny circles in Negan’s chest hair as she continued talking.

“I left you because I was too chicken to stay here and go through it.  I just wanted to escape.  From it, from you, from all of it.  So like the spoiled brat I was, I ran. But now there’s nothing to run to, you know? Like nowhere you go, there is no escape from all this bullshit.  And it freaked me out that there was nowhere to go.”

Negan could feel her tears as they landed on his chest, but still he remained as silent as possible.  As much as he wanted to fix this for her, he knew he couldn’t. Only she could, and all he could do was love her through it.

“I think I always looked at you as this person that I could never be, that you were the kind of person that could kill if you had to, and I just kinda assumed I could never stoop that low.  And that somehow I wasn’t like that, but that’s not the truth anymore, Negan.  When I killed Amber, I felt it.  I know I was losing my mind a bit from not eating and not sleeping, and just the whole stress of it all – _I mean they cut my damn hand off!_ \-- but I knew when I killed her what I was doing.   _And I liked it, Negan._ Like.. not like I wanna do it everyday...but killing her felt good. Killing Alpha would have felt good.”

Mallory continued rubbing his chest, back and forth as she talked.  Her voice sounded hollow and distant.  Detached would be a better descriptor...

“So when you brought me back here, I couldn’t justify the way I was thinking.  Again, this couldn’t be happening to me, you know?  My daddy was the head pharmacist on Fort Jackson, Negan. My mom was a cheerleading coach. We were _that_ family, the one that everyone hated because we were so damn perfect.” Mallory’s voice dropped down an octave. “I thought, there’s no way he can love me, you know? No way you could love me, not when I changed so much.”

Negan shifted against her and kissed the top of her head. 

“I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweetie.”  Silence be damned, he had to say something. He smiled when his hand found hers on his chest, and she curled her fingers around his. _Trusting him._

“Deep down I think I knew nothing ever happened with Amber, but her words, Negan…” Mallory sniffled as she continued on. “Her words were true, you know? I had been sheltered for too long.  For way, way too long.  And when I wasn't, I couldn't handle it.”

Negan bit at his lip as he forced himself to not speak, to let her get all this out in her way, and in her time.  Just every damn time he heard Amber’s name, his anger flared white-hot, burning in his gut, and screaming for revenge. _Fucking bitch..._

“So I went to Alexandria to save myself, Negan.  I couldn’t stand the way you looked at me when I came back.  It was like you pitied me, and now I was just another burden to you.  I no longer deserved your pity, not after what I’d done to Amber.” Mallory was full-on crying now, her shoulders shaking as she cried against him.

“I killed her, Negan. I took pleasure in it, so what does that mean?”  She sat up, her cheeks red and puffy from crying, and stared down at him. _“What kind of person am I?”_

Negan sat up as well, his head tilted as he looked into her beautiful, pain-stricken eyes.

“It’s means you’re a survivor, sweetheart.  It means you’ll do what you have to do to survive.” He cupped her cheek in his rough palm, his thumb rubbing along her jaw as she looked up at him. “Just like you said, you can’t plan this fuckin’ shit anymore. You have to react at a moment’s notice, for better or worse.  Just like we all have to do.”

 _“_ Do you still think I’m _...okay?”_   Mallory’s voice was hushed, lonely and vulnerable as she waited for his answer. They both knew what she was asking for.

“If you’re asking if I love you, you’re goddamned right I do, Mal.” Negan leaned down and pressed a kiss against her lips.

“But-”

“And it means you’re still my bright spot in this shitty fuckin’ world, babe,” he continued.  He gently pushed her back down on the bed, and hovered over her. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and disbelieving, as he grinned down at her.

  

“It still means you’re my reason for living, Mal. You’re the reason I’ll kill a whole damn lot of crazy skin-wearing fucks, and you’re the reason I let Prick Grimes go back to Alexandria.  Without even kicking his ass, I might add .”

“You did?” Mallory asked in shock.

“I sure fuckin’ did,” Negan shook his head at himself. “Hurt my fuckin’ heart, but I did.”  He'd come a long damn way from his earlier days as the leader of The Saviors, that was for damn sure. 

Mallory grinned back up at him, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months. _Years even._

“Don’t get your hopes up, babe,” Negan narrowed his eyes at her. “Prick and I won’t be friends anytime soon.”

“Stranger things have happened, huh?” She wound her arms up around his neck, and pulled him down with her good hand.  Her brows drew together in a frown as she remembered something. 

“What about my hand?”

“What about it?”

“It’s gone.” Mallory pulled her injured arm back to her chest and tucked it at her side.

“And?”

“I mean…don’t you think it’s weird?” Mallory’s eyes dropped away from his, down to his chest, as her insecurity started to sneak back in.

With a quick kiss on the tip of her nose, Negan crawled off the bed and made his way over to the dresser in the far corner of the room, and Mallory couldn’t help but sit up to see what he was doing; her eyes were drawn to his bare ass as he walked away. Negan dug around in one of the drawers before he produced a small plastic bag, and when he turned, he caught Mallory staring at him. He grinned, dimples on full display.

“Pervert,” he chuckled as he made his way back over to her.

“You have a cute butt. Not sorry,” Mallory shrugged, giggling as she made room for him as he slid back under the covers.

“So,” Negan pulled the contents out of the bag. It was some red fabric, rolled tightly in a ball, and Mallory stared at it curiously.

“This is to replace the scarf that we lost.” He unfolded the fabric, and Mallory saw that it was indeed another red scarf.

“Where did you find this?” Mallory asked in wonder. She turned the scarf over in her fingers, amazed at the quality. This one was much more rich than the thin, cotton one she’d given him before. This one was of very high quality, cashmere she’d bet.

“The mall” Negan shook his head with a grimace as he remembered that shitty day. “Don’t fuckin’ ask.”

“Okay,” Mallory grinned as she clutched it to her chest. _She’d ask him later…_

“And this,” Negan held up a small box, and Mallory felt her breath catch at what she thought it might be.  He opened it, revealing three rings, and her eyes welled up with tears.

One of those rings was hers from before, the one she was wearing when she lost her hand. She felt herself choking with emotion, and she didn’t even try to hide the tears as they rolled freely down her cheek.  Where had he found it?

“So, I have three here. One from before, and two new ones.” Negan pulled the rings out and held them in his palm. “Give me your hand, babe.”

“But…it’s the wrong hand, Negan,” Mallory argued weakly.

“It’s a goddamned zombie apocalypse, babe.  We do what the fuck we want, right?”  He grinned at her, dimples deepening in his cheeks.  

With a nod, Mallory placed her right hand in his.

“So, I’m gonna ask you, but you don’t really have a fuckin’ choice, okay?” Negan grinned down at her, charming arrogance on full display. “Will you please marry me, Mallory?”

Mallory could see that his cheeks were red with embarrassment, belying some of his confidence, and her heart melted with adoration for him. She nodded, a quick tilt of her chin as she agreed to be his wife.

“So this new one, this will be our…engagement ring, okay?” he slid the newer, more sparkly ring on her finger, twisting it slightly as he did so.

“Engagement?”

“Yep.” He slid the original ring on her finger, pressing the new one closer to her knuckle. “And this is our wedding ring. Right back where it belongs.” He lifted her hand and kissed the ring before lowering her hand back to her chest.

Mallory looked down, her eyes blurry as Negan held out a ring for her. She took it, and looked toward his left hand, but he held out his right instead. More tears flooded her eyes, making it hard to see.

“We do what we want, right?” Negan’s voice was gruff as he watched Mallory slide that simple gold band over his knuckle and up the ring finger on his right hand. 

“Right,” Mallory whispered back as she wrapped her arm around Negan and pulled him down to her.

“Now you’re fuckin’ stuck with me, babe,” Negan grinned as he nipped along the edges of her lips. _“Wife.”_ His nose crinkled with his grin as he said that word. 

“I’d be hard pressed to find a divorce attorney,” Mallory teased him playfully. Negan grunted against her as he pushed himself up on his hands. 

“Did you miss that part earlier when I said I’d kill people for you?” He peered down at her, eyebrows arched in warning.

“We’re married,” she stated simply, happily.

“Yeah, we sure as fuck are,” Negan grinned at her again.

“And we’re gonna have a baby,” Mallory’s smile wavered just a bit as she stared up at him.

“We sure as hell are,” Negan agreed again. He lowered himself, pressing his chest to hers as much as he could while being careful to not push on her belly. “And you’re gonna be fine, and our baby is gonna be fine.”

"What about all the baby stuff? I mean, what are we supposed to do about all that?"  Mallory asked, her brows furrowing again as she thought about all the things they didn't have.  A crib, clothes and blankets, and bottles! How the hell would they feed a baby if she couldn't breastfeed?  It's not like they could just go down to a store! What about the--

"Can you just stop worrying for a few minutes, babe?"  Negan kissed along her collar bone, dragging his stubbled chin up the column of her neck and to her ear.  Mallory shivered under his touch, her bare skin breaking out in goosebumps under his fingers. 

"You're gonna have to distract me, I guess," Mallory squirmed as she felt his fingers close around her breast. She pushed thoughts of cribs and carseats aside as her body came to life yet again.  Her hormones were insane, and it took nothing for her to be practically panting at his feet;  as it were, this would be the 4th time in about 12 hours that they'd made love!

"You sure you're up for this?" Mallory teased him as she draped one leg over his hip and rolled her pelvis against him.  "A man of your advanced age, and all..."  She pinched his asscheek, smirking as he yelped. 

"A man of my advanced age will fuck you sideways, and then some."  He leaned up to stare down at her, his dark eyes taking her breath away with their intensity.  He pressed his groin into hers, letting her know _just how up to this_ he was.  Without warning, he pulled her leg off of his and pressed himself against her, entering her slick passage with one strong thrust.  "Any more questions, woman?"   

Mallory shook her head, her eyes closing as Negan slowly thrust in and out, dragging her along with him to another toe-curling orgasm.  

* * *

 

"If we have a boy, I'd like to name him after my grandfather, Fletcher."  Negan kissed Mallory's shoulder as he curled his body around hers a bit tighter.  His hand was again cradling her stomach protectively.  "He was more of a father to me than anyone, especially after my dad split."

"Okay," Mallory whispered in the dark.  She kissed his shoulder tenderly. Another little tidbit of Negan's past that she had not known about, just revealed.  

"Okay?  Just like that?" Negan asked in surprise.  

"Just like that." 

"What if it's a girl?" He ran his fingers over her taut stomach.  "What do you think?"

"Well, my grandmother's  middle name was Hope, so I think that might be a good one.  What do you think?"  Mallory smiled she thought of her MawMaw Sonnier.  

"Hope?  I actually like that, babe," Negan kissed her shoulder again. 

"I love you," Mallory yawned as she snuggled deeper into his arms.  Negan kissed her on the back of her head, and wrapped his arms about her just a little tighter, his hand still resting at her pregnant belly. 

"I love you, more."  

As his eyes grew heavy, Negan thought about the long road he'd taken to get here, to get to this very moment.  How before all this it had felt hopeless, and how he'd felt that life wasn't worth living.  How he'd wanted to die that day that Mallory found him, how he had wished she would have just let him go.  But now?  

Now he _actually felt that hope_ that she had always espoused, that light that she seemed to carry with her into all his dark places.  That beautiful soul of hers that he loved, and that loved him back, for reasons he couldn't fathom.  She loved him, bad stuff and all, and for the first time in a long time, he felt hope.  

 

 

 


	46. Chapter 46

**A few months later...**

  
“Mallory, baby, please!” Negan ran his fingers across her forehead and pushed her hair back. Mallory’s eyes fluttered open, but closed again, and Negan frantically gripped her cheeks with his big hands.

“Baby! Stay with me, please!” He shook her, trying to force her to wake up, force her to look at him and be okay. He felt a hand on his arm, and he turned to find Rick;  he angrily jerked away, his attention back on Mallory.

“You have to let Denise do her job!” Rick pulled Negan’s arm again. “Let her do her job!”

With a defeated cry, Negan dropped his hands and stepped back, allowing Denise to finally take over.

_There was so much blood._

“Come on, out in the hallway with me,” Rick urged him as he pulled at his arm again.  Negan couldn't take his eyes off Mallory, no matter how much he wanted to look away.  

_There was so much fucking blood._

The dark, red blotches were ominous against the sheets, against Mallory’s skin, and Negan stared at the spots on the floor where it had fallen from between Mallory’s legs. He felt his stomach turn, his mind going back to the first time.

 _“This can’t be happening again,”_ he mumbled to himself as he stumbled backwards.  " _Not again, please fucking God not again."_  The noise stopped in the room, and all he could hear was the sound of his heart beating in his ears. He felt like he was suffocating, and he felt a wave of heat roll over his body, breaking him out in a cold sweat. He felt sick, and dizzy, and he turned, only to collide into Daryl.

“Come on, man,” Daryl pulled Negan - with Rick’s help - out into the hallway.  Rick closed the door behind them, and dragged Negan down the hall, away from Mallory. The three men stumbled out the door and into the cool evening air.

Negan crumpled, falling to his knees and began retching.  Over and over he heaved, emptying his stomach until he had nothing left.  When he could purge no more, he fell over and lay on his back, his eyes closed and breathing ragged.   Silent tears rolled down his cheeks and fell to the ground around Negan's head.  

Rick leaned down next to him, and placed a hand at his shoulder.  The last thing he wanted to do was comfort this man, but he knew what he was going through. For not the first time, he saw Negan as a man, a vulnerable man, and one that could be brought low just like him.

_And Mallory was his friend, if nothing else._

“Listen to me, Denise knows what she’s doing, okay? This ain’t the first baby she’s delivered, and Mallory _will_ be fine.” Rick prayed his words were true, and he was trying desperately to not think about Lori, to not think about what had happened at the prison.

Daryl paced restlessly, his thumbnail in his mouth as he chewed it down.

Not getting a response from Negan, Rick stood up and walked over to Daryl.

“Dude’s losin' it,” Daryl muttered as he cast a glance over at Negan.  The man was still on his back, still silently crying. 

“Yeah. Yeah he is,” Rick remarked. “Let’s just pray Denise can take care of it.”

* * *

Daryl emerged from the house, clutching his arm to hold the bandage in place.

“That’s all I can do,” Daryl answered before Rick could ask. “You’re next.” Daryl jerked his head back to the house as he came to stand before Rick.

“Good thing Denise got everyone’s blood types way back when,” Rick remarked as he rolled his sleeve up.  He glanced over at Negan. The man was now sitting on a tree stump, staring off towards the woods. He hadn’t spoken since they’d brought him outside nearly an hour ago, not one single word. Hadn’t even asked to see his newborn daughter.

Rick made his way back inside and took his spot next to the bed where Mallory lay. He glanced over at her, scared, but saw that she was breathing easier, and her color seemed to be coming back.

“She’s doing a whole lot better,” Denise smiled as she began swabbing his arm. “I got the bleeding to stop, and the stitches are clean. I think you might be all we need.”

“Thank you, Denise,” Rick said softly. From somewhere down the hall, he heard the sound of a newborn baby crying, and he looked up at Denise.

“Michonne and Maggie have her,” Denise smiled again. She tied the plastic tourniquet around the spot above Rick’s elbow before slapping his skin a few times. A few moments later, Rick felt the prick of the needle as it entered his skin.

 He let out the breath he’d been holding; he hated needles. 

 


	47. Chapter 47

  
“Rick?”

Rick opened his eyes, and nearly fell of the chair when he realized it was Mallory talking to him. With a smile, he scooted his chair over to her bed and gripped her hand in his. He was damn sure glad to see her!

“How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” Mallory grimaced as she attempted to move in the bed.  Her hands drifted over her stomach, and her eyes widened in panic as she looked back up at Rick.  He gave her a soft smile and squeezed her hand a little tighter.  

“She’s fine, sweetie.  Maggie and Michonne have her.”

_“She?_ I had a daughter?” Mallory broke out on a smile of her own as her eyes filled with tears.

“Yeah, yeah, you did. She’s beautiful, Mal. Gonna have all the boys chasing after her one day.” Rick’s blue eyes glinted with happiness as he stared back at Mallory.

Mallory giggled again as she wiped at her eyes. 

“Where’s Negan?” She looked around for him.

“He’s outside. He didn’t take this… _too well…_ ” Rick hedged as he ran a hand over the back of his neck. He had tried to bring Negan back in, but the whole giving birth thing had not gone over well with him, and the older man had spent his time outside.

“Is he alright?” Mallory’s voice was rising in her panic, and Rick placed a hand on hers to calm her down.

“He’s fine. Just the blood loss, and all that seemed to work him up a bit.”

“Can you go get him, please? I need to see him.  I want him to see our daughter.”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” Rick replied as he stood up. He kissed Mallory on top of her head and made his way outside to find Negan.

* * *

Just as before, Negan was still sitting on the tree stump.  The man hadn’t moved in close to 8 hours.

“Negan?”

Negan didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that Rick was even talking to him.  Rick placed a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder; Negan barely flinched. 

“Hey. Mallory’s awake. She needs you to come to her.”

Negan stood and turned around, and for the first time, Rick saw the the anguish the man had been going through. Negan’s bloodshot eyes met Rick’s for just a moment, the worry lines around his eyes and mouth heavily pronounced from the night's events.  

“I’m sorry,” Negan muttered as he ran a hand over his face.

“Don’t be,” Rick replied just as quietly.

Together, they turned, and headed inside to see the newest addition to their group. 

 


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just too damn cute, even more for me. Sorry, not sorry haha

Negan stepped inside the room, his eyes frantically searching for Mallory first.  She was there, on the bed, with Maggie sitting next to her. He followed the direction of their smiles; he felt his heart jump in his chest when he saw Daryl holding the baby in his arms, a bottle propped up in his hand as he fed her.

 

Feeling like an outsider, Negan cleared his throat uncomfortably.  All three looked up when he stepped forward, his boots echoing across the wooden floor as he came closer.

“Daddy’s here,” Maggie smiled as she stood up.  She took the baby from Daryl, and handed her to Mallory.  Mallory looked up, and her smile grew exponentially when her eyes met Negan's.

“Hey,” she whispered as her eyes filled with tears.

“Hey,” Negan whispered back. He was just as choked up as Mallory was, but he’d be damned if he cried in front of Daryl. Again.

With tears of her own, Maggie quietly exited, dragging a reluctant Daryl with her. They closed the door behind them, giving the new family some time together. Negan cautiously sat down next to Mallory on the bed, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.  He gently pulled her to him, his lips at her temple.   He was shaking something fierce, and he couldn't stop, no matter how hard he willed himself to. 

“God, Mal, I thought you were…” Negan choked up, unable to finish the words.  His grip on her tightened.  

“But I’m not. I’m fine. We’re fine,” Mallory kissed him on his chin as she adjusted their baby in her arms. “Wanna meet your daughter?”

With a shy smile, Negan slowly held out his hands.   With a smile of her own, Mallory transferred their daughter into Negan’s  shaking, --but very capable hands -- and sat back against her pillows with a contented sigh. For the longest, Negan just stared at the baby, his dark eyes trained on her perfect form.  Hope wriggled in his hands, her little bow-shaped lips pursing and puckering as she squirmed. 

“She’s beautiful,” Negan finally whispered.

 Mallory leaned over and kissed away a tear that ran down his cheek. She was certain she’d never loved him more than she did right now, not when she could clearly see just how much he instantly adored their daughter.  She could see it in his eyes and in the way he held their daughter, and if she ever had doubts, they were now long gone. 

“I love you, Negan,” Mallory whispered as she gripped his chin, forcing him to look at her.  He was still frightened, she could see it in his eyes, but that warmth that she loved was coming back.   _He was coming back._ “Everything’s fine, baby. We’re both fine.”

“Yeah?” Negan gruffly asked.  Mallory nodded, smiling as Negan pulled her to him for a kiss, his free hand cupping her jaw tenderly.  

     

 

“Yeah.”  Mallory smiled against his lips.  "We're fine.  All of us."  

And for the first time in a long time, she believed those words.  

 


	49. Chapter 49

Late that evening, everything had finally settled down. Rick and his group had headed back to Alexandria, although Maggie and Denise remained just in case. A stubborn Daryl had also stayed, stating that he would be the one that made any runs out to get whatever Mallory and baby Hope might need. Although Negan wasn’t happy with the whole godfather/godmother thing, he was too enamored with his daughter to fight the stupid redneck over some made-up, bullshit title that meant nothing.

_Not today, anyway._

“Do you need anything?” Negan asked as he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. 

They’d both been able to get a shower, and everyone was ready to settle down and get as much sleep as a newborn would allow.  He was fucking mentally and physically exhausted, only just now realizing it as it settled over his body and weighed him down.  He couldn't even imagine how Mallory was feeling, given everything that had happened, but damned if she wasn't trucking right on through it.  He was so damned in awe of her it was ridiculous, and he couldn't help but be pretty fucking proud of her as well. And the fact that she had only one hand hadn't even factored into anything Mallory attempted;  she was an excellent mother.  Even now, she was laying on her side, their daughter set against her mother’s breast as she nursed in contentment.  

“Just you to relax,” Mallory gave him an exhausted smile. “Please just lay down, Negan.”

“I can't _just relax_ ,” Negan admitted, one side of his mouth lifting up in a wry grin. “I’m on fuckin’ edge, babe.”

“Women have been giving birth for years. I’m not the first, and I certainly won’t be the last.” Mallory patted the spot beside her. “Please lay down.  And stop cussing so much.”

Negan reluctantly lay down, taking care not to jostle his daughter or Mallory.

“She’s got dark hair like you,” Mallory remarked as she ran her fingers through their daughter’s thick hair, pulling it into little spikes. 

“Hopefully that’s all she got from me,” Negan chuckled as he reached out and pressed his finger against his daughter's hand. His smile widened when Hope wrapped her tiny fingers around his much larger ones and held on tightly.

   

“Stop it, Negan,” Mallory chastised him, softening the order with a smile. “This is our new start, remember?”

“You’re right, Mal,” he whispered before leaning over and kissing his daughter on her head.  He then kissed Mallory, lingering just a bit. “I love you.”

“I love you, more,” Mallory kissed him back.

* * *

 

A few hours later, Daryl was patrolling the border, unable to sleep after the long day, when he saw something peculiar.  He knew that broad frame, and that puff of cigarette smoke gave it away.  What the hell was _he_ doing out here?  

“Baby keepin’ ya’ up?” Daryl asked as he made his way over to where Negan was sitting.   A crackling fire came from the 55-gallon drum before them, it’s flames licking up towards the night’s sky with hisses and pops.   As he got closer, Daryl felt the heat reaching out for him, warming his chilled skin.  Nights were getting cooler and cooler; soon it would be winter.  

“Nah. They’re both sleeping.” Negan held up a beer, and Daryl took it. “I just needed to…uhh..needed to take care of something.”

As Daryl sat down on the empty chair next to Negan, he finally saw what was going on.  His eyes widened;  it normally took a lot to shock Daryl Dixon, but Negan had just done it.  

“I figure it’s time to get rid of this.” Negan held up Lucille, her wood bare of the barbed wire that had wrapped it before. “Turn the page, and shit, ya’ know?” Negan turned to Daryl, and gave him a half-hearted grin.

“Sure you wanna do that?” Daryl asked as he took a sip of his beer.  That baseball bat was synonymous with who Negan was as a man, as a leader…as a killer. Everyone knew about Negan and Lucille.   _Everyone._

“I don’t need it anymore,” Negan spoke quietly, almost to himself. “It’s time to let all that shit go, ya know? All the past, and all the fuckin’ bad memories.”

“Hell yeah, I can ‘preciate that,” Daryl nodded as he stared into the fire.  For just a moment, he was lulled back into the past himself, memories of long-forogtten times with his brother and cousins, spent around a campfire with laughter and jokes.  Seemed like so long ago that they were running off into the woods, lighting stuff on fire and just being little heathens…

Things were so much simpler then. 

Negan stood, and without a word, shoved the old baseball bat down into the fire.  He sat back down, and rubbed a hand over his jaw before taking another sip of his beer.  He and Daryl stared at the fire for a good long while, neither man speaking, until finally, Negan broke the silence.

“You know, this pains me to fuckin' say this, but I’m sorry.  For all the shit I was doing, for all the shit I did, ya know?” Negan’s voice was gruff. “I guess having this baby has taken my ass down a notch or two, you know?”

“So what you’re sayin' is it’s cool for me to be Uncle Daryl to Lil’ Ass Kicker, number two?” Daryl cut his eyes at Negan, knowing full-well what would probably come next.

Negan didn’t disappoint, his scowl almost immediate as he glared back at Daryl.  Daryl chuckled as he took another drink of his beer; he thoroughly enjoyed getting a rise out Negan whenever he could. 

“No, I’m not fuckin’ cool with you being around my daughter, but that’s not up to me.” Negan huffed, at the ground with his boot. “And her name is Hope, although I do fuckin’ agree that she’s gonna be kickin’ some ass before too long!”

The men chuckled now, each thinking about how the babies would grow into who they were gonna be.  Judith was a handful, Hershel was coming into his own, and baby Hope would be sure to follow in their footsteps soon enough. This was the new generation, coming up in a world full of uncertainty and change, and people like Daryl and Negan would be teaching them.   _Lord help them all._

Both men laughed again at their own thoughts, before lapsing into a comfortable silence again as they stared into the fire.  

Finished, Negan tilted his beer bottle up, draining the last few drops before tossing the bottle into the fire pit.  He stood, and pulled his beanie back down on his head before shoving his hands back in his pockets.  

“I guess I better get back to them.”  He jerked his head up in the direction of his quarters.  

Daryl stood as well, repeating Negan’s actions with his own beer bottle.  

“Yeah, I’m gonna walk the fence again.” He shifted his crossbow on his shoulder before adjusting his jacket. “Just to be sure.”

“Thanks.” Negan nodded at Daryl.

“Yeah,” Daryl replied as he headed off to the fence.

Negan watched the redneck go, and couldn’t help but breathe a little easier. He hated to admit it, but he'd sleep better knowing Daryl was out there, watching for anything. Negan was man enough to admit that he'd developed some respect for Daryl, although he'd never tell the man that.  However, he knew it --just as sure as Daryl did -- that an uneasy truce had just been formed between the two of them.  One that would require lots of watering to help it grow, but it was formed, nonetheless, and Negan felt damn good about that. 

* * *

Negan made his way up to their room, being as quiet as possible as he entered.  He quickly removed everything, slid into some sweats, and made his way over to the bed.  Mallory was fast asleep, but their daughter was not.  She was squirming in her blanket, her little mouth searching for something to suck on.   Not able to resist, he scooped her up and cradled her against his chest as he walked around the room.  She was so damn tiny, and so sweet and innocent, he just didn't know what to do with her.  

She squeaked against his chest, earning a chuckle from him.  She was sure a persistent little thing!

"You gotta be quiet, sweetheart," he whispered as he rocked her gently.  

Seeing her mouth searching along his chest, he did the only thing he could think of and offered her his pinky.  Hope quickly started suckling on his finger, her small mouth and tongue making the sweetest noises he'd ever heard.   He shook his head at himself, knowing that this little girl had wrapped him around her little finger in no less than 24 hours.   _He was such a damn sap._

Hope squeaked again, this time much louder and more angry, and Negan began to panic a little.  It had been so long since he'd held a baby, that he literally didn't know what to do.  

"Negan?" Mallory sleepily called from the bed.   "Where's the baby?" 

"Right here, Mal," Negan replied as he made his way back over to the bed.  He handed their daughter over to Mallory, who immediately popped a breast out and set Hope to it. The baby started nursing, finally content;  Mallory lay back, but looked up at Negan from under heavy lids.  

"I'm so tired," Mallory whispered as her eyes fluttered closed. 

"You're so beautiful," Negan countered with a smile.   He wasn't lying either.

She was beautiful to him, no matter what, but something about seeing her breastfeeding his daughter made her even more so. _Yeah, he was becoming a big, damn pussy in his old age._  

A few minutes later, Mallory held Hope out to him, and Negan took their daughter.  

"She needs to burp, and then change her diaper," Mallory covered herself back up and sank back down into the blanket. "Wake me if you need me."  Her voice was muffled from under the blankets, and literally moments later, Negan could tell she was fast asleep.   

"Well, here goes nothing," he murmured as he sat up, cradling Hope against his shoulder.  

He walked over to the window and stared down outside as he patted his daughter's back, trying to get her to burp.  After she'd burped, he carried her back to the bed and did the best he could at changing her diaper and putting her clothes back on her.  As his large fingers fumbled with the outfit, he wondered who the fuck had invented baby clothes? Why this shit was so complicated and had so many buttons, he would never know.   Finally satisfied that the diaper was good enough -- _and would stay on for the immediate future_ \-- Negan cradled his daughter against his chest as he lay back down on the bed.  He smiled when he felt her tiny head loll against his chest, indicating that she, too, had fallen asleep.   He looked over at the top of Mallory's head as it peeked out from under their blanket.  He then tilted his head and kissed the top of his daughters head. 

He took a deep breath, and let it out, knowing that he had found it.  His eyes closed, and as he drifted off to sleep, he did so with a smile on his face.  

He had finally found it, finally found what he'd been searching for since before he could remember. Finally found that thing that he had lost so long ago when he lost his family, when he thought he'd lost everything.  

_He'd found hope._

 


	50. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it for Negan and Mallory. Damn but this was a hard story for me, for multiple reasons. Thanks to all my readers for coming along for the ride! Hope y'all enjoyed it! I'll be back, soon, with some JDM fics. I hope you read those too. Feedback is great and makes a writers day, so keep it coming!
> 
> See all you TWD fans in October!

 

_**Epilogue** _

Mallory leaned up, wrapping her arms around Negan as she pressed herself against his chest.

“It’s nice to have some time to ourselves, isn’t it?” She snuggled into him, rubbing her nose against the hard planes of his chest. “You smell so good, Negan.”

While Negan wanted to kiss Mallory, or hug her, or someting, he couldn’t take his eyes away from what he saw through their window.   

Out along the fence line, he saw that Natalie was the one with Hope strapped to her chest...but beside her was Daryl.

Daryl- _fucking-_ Dixon, and it didn’t look like he was patrolling any damn perimeter. Negan scowled.  No, he most certainly was fucking not doing any kind of work. 

“Why did Dixon just stick a fucking flower in Natalie’s hair?” Negan growled low in his chest.  

Mallory grinned, feeling him tense up beneath her hands; she'd known it was only a matter of time before Negan caught wind of The Sanctuary's newest couple.  For as long as it had been going on, she was surprised he didn't pick up on it sooner.  Yep, things were about to get real interesting around here...

“Negan… _sweetheart_ …Natalie is actually 18 years old. Daryl is…however old Daryl is.”  Mallory frowned to herself: _how old was Daryl?_

“I don’t give a fuck—”

“And Stephen approves, so you’re outnumbered here, three to one.” Mallory pulled his face down by his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Let it go.”

Negan’s eyes narrowed, and then widened,  as he put two and two together. 

“ _Three to one?_ Who’s the third?”

Mallory grinned up at him, doing her best to look innocent.

“I think it’s sweet.”

"I'm gonna kill him," Negan growled again as he tried to untangle himself from his wife.  "I will fuckin' kill him, I swear to fuckin' god."   

Mallory held on tight, doing her best to keep her husband calm.  She knew he saw Natalie as a daughter, and she knew he was going to be upset when he found out about her and Daryl.  She knew he'd want to kill Daryl.  The problem was that she hadn't really thought about what she would do to keep him from actually killing Daryl...

"It's been over 2 months," Mallory whispered as she leaned up and kissed the angry pulse on his neck.  In truth, it had been more than 2 months,  and all because Negan was afraid to hurt her.  Mallory wasn't willing to wait any longer; she was going insane without him.  She slid her hand down the front of his pants, grinning when she felt his arousal. 

"I know what you're trying to do, and it's not working," Negan grunted.  Mallory's grin grew;  his angry tone had lessened, and she could feel him getting harder under her fingers.  

"Oh I think _it's_ working just fine," she purred as she slid her hand down the waist of his jeans and cupped him through his boxers.  Negan hissed through his teeth, causing Mallory to chuckle, but her smile quickly turned to a gasp when Negan grabbed her below her knees and lifted her, carrying her over to their bed.

He tossed her down, his eyes dark with a mixture of pent-up lust and anger, and ripped his shirt off.  He reached down and pulled Mallory's pants off with a rough tug, then crawled over her and settled between her legs.  

"Negan-"

"Don't talk, Mal.  Don't say a fuckin' word."  Negan kissed along her collar as he pulled her shirt from her body.  His eyes raked over her full breasts, straining against her bra, and he couldn't help himself but lean down and take one taut nipple in his mouth.  Negan groaned against her, and Mallory gasped, her body overly sensitive from hormones, and going to long without his touch.  

Mallory was burning up for him, the ache between her thighs painful in it's intensity.  She twisted her fingers in his hair, trying to pull him closer as she clutched at his hips with her thighs.   She whimpered and whined, and nearly screamed when he finally entered her.   Finally, after so long...

* * *

 

"I still don't like it," Negan muttered against Mallory's forehead.  

They were laying together, still naked, and wrapped around each other, as they discussed Daryl and Natalie.  

"Well, you're gonna have to get used to it," Mallory grinned as she crawled over Negan and rubbed her still wet core against him.  His eyes were narrowed as they stared back up at her. 

'What does that fuckin' mean?"  Negan's lips flattened as he stared up at his wife.  

Mallory grinned, doing her best to not start laughing at Negan's pained look.  She would never, ever forget this moment, not as long as she lived.  It was too damn funny!

"Mallory! Fuckin' tell me right fuckin' now!" 

"Well..." Mallory began, as she trailed a finger down the center of his chest, hoping to distract him. 

"Mal, I swear to god, if you don't-" 

Mallory grinned down at him, and couldn't contain her laughter at the look of horror on his face. 

"You can't kill Daryl, 'cause Natalie's pregnant." 

 

**_The End_ **

 

 


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